Meatloaf
by NightCoffee
Summary: Zelena and her meatloaf is giving Regina a hard time, and getting her thoughts and feelings about Robin sorted out isn't easy either. This is the written record of my head canon, with an addition I thought I saw early spring 2015. It is filling out some of the obvious blanks in the show. Chapter 3 is kind of a flashback. Follows the show from 4x18 to 4x23.
1. Meatloaf

**TW: rape, violence and miscarriage. Not too graphic, but the story is rated M because of this.**

03:04. The red numbers stood out in the darkness, reminding her of the time ticking away. She was lying in bed trying to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come easy that night. The room was too cold, the duvet too thick, her back too cranky, the silk pyjamas too clingy. A headache was starting to creep up from her tense shoulders, and her nose was stuffy. She got out of bed and put on a pair of slippers before she silently went down to the kitchen. Anything to keep her reeling mind away from going back to default mode. Whenever she didn't _do _anything, or was planning even the simplest task, the scene in her vault kept playing on repeat, never leaving her alone.

Was she reading too much into it? Or too little? She needed sleep, she was desperate for it. But for the time being, she was making a fabulous dish of herbal tea (apparently good for sleeping, according to the label) and a tin of cod roe unceremoniously sliced and put in the micro oven for heating.

And she was back to default again.

"_What do you know that I don't? What happened to Robin?"  
__With a flick of his wrist, Gold freed her from the shackles and put her phone and the note with the number in her hand._

"_Ask him yourself. Call."  
__She glared at him and made the call. The phone rang for a few seconds before someone picked up._

"_Robin?"  
__She spoke before the other person had a chance to reply. If only she didn't have a spectator! Her voice was light and anticipating, she couldn't help it. Surely this sign of weakness would be used against her sooner or later. Probably sooner, the way things were at the moment. This whole Robin thing was never meant to be smooth sailing. She would never be allowed to go unpunished for her happiness._

"_No, it's not Robin"_

"_Marian?"_

"_Not exactly..."  
__Whatever did she mean? The voice was clearly Marian. What kind of trick was this?_

"_Hello, sis!"  
__She felt like somebody had tossed a bucket of ice water over her head, or__ a packet of mockingly rotting eggs. Desperation was taking hold of her, she was losing all grounding, and the world started to shrink at the edges._

"_No. No, it can't be!"  
__She had to sit down, there and then, right on the chest, where she woke up not ten minutes before. __The first "no" was almost a whisper, but her voice regained its strength by the second one. She was utterly confused._

"_Oh, but it is."_

_She was mocking her! That wretched witch of a sister! To think that she had really wanted that creature to be a part of her highly dysfunctional family. She had actually glimpsed a ray of hope for a moment._

"_Zelena. But how? I saw you die."  
__Her composure was back, and she needed the information. Damned witch!_

"_You thought you saw me die."_

"_Where's Robin? This is his phone, what have you done with him?"  
__Her voice was still demanding, although it wavered. She was desperately close to crying, and deadly afraid._

"_I haven't done anything, except love and honour him, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold and all that other wifely nonsense."  
__She drawled it out, thoroughly enjoying tormenting her little sister. Loving the images she was painting. Regina could hear the smugness, and wanted to slap that stupid grin off her face, but her imagination was all too vivid. For nine weeks Robin had lived with Zelena pretending to be his long dead wife, and he had bought her scam. Lived with her, loved her, held her. And all that other wifely nonsense..._

_She mentally shook herself, tried to get herself together, her demanding tone still present, yet she stuttered._

"_I…I don't understand!"_

"_Well, you don't have to. All you need to know is while your precious Robin thinks it's his wide eyed wife cooking dinner for him every night, it's actually me."  
__She felt her face drop, her insides a churning mess, and she heard a chuckle and a __**pling**__._

"_Oh, I've gotta run sis. He'll be home soon, and...I've got a meatloaf in the oven!"  
__She was too happy not to be looking at herself in the mirror. The stabbing pain of the words was enough to know what she might look like. Her imagination went haywire, the innuendo not lost on her._

"_No..." she half whispered, followed by a firmer "No!"_

"_Oh, you sound like you need a moment. Take it! I'm sure we'll see each other again very soon. Ta-ta!"  
__Zelena hung up. She was sitting stiff as a board, just staring at Rumplestiltskin. Slowly she lowered her hand with the phone from her ear and pointed at him._

"_You knew!"  
Her voice was low and threatening._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a _pling _from her own micro oven, and she whipped out a fork as she passed the drawer before sitting down by the table. The combination of food and tea was peculiar, yet satisfying. She savoured the meal and hummed absentmindedly on a tune she only remembered three bars of. The drowsiness was creeping back upon her, and she gathered the remnants of her night-time snack and put the cup, plate and fork in the dishwasher. She crushed the tin and threw it in the bin. And that got her mind buzzing again. Damnit.

What did Zelena mean by meatloaf in the oven? It couldn't have been a euphemism, could it? Surely, she must have been mocking her. _Or _she could actually have been making meatloaf for dinner. But _if_ they had been loving, holding, all that wifely stuff for nine weeks... Wifely stuff _she_ should have been the one doing these past weeks...

She craved his touch more than anything, and felt completely and utterly alone in a way she didn't know was possible. Her time _being_ with him was brief, but the feeling of it all was so right that the separation was all the more painful. It was torture when Marian… _No, Zelena… _she corrected herself, had returned with miss Swan and the pirate, but the second parting, actually sending him away when he openly chose her, that was like a part of her died.

She very much felt like crying. Could he really have gotten over her that quickly? Was it really that easy? She was not wired like that at all. Of course she couldn't count on everybody being like her. That was part of the reason nothing good ever lasted in her little bubble. And yet, she couldn't really believe it. To think that Zelena wouldn't bend the truth to suit her was close to ludicrous, but the problem was to distinguish the truth between all the lies.

She went back upstairs and got out of her pyjamas. It was too hot anyway, and she desperately needed skin contact. The softness of her cotton bed sheets was nothing like the contact she craved, but yet more soothing than the silk. She sighed and buried herself in the fluffy duvet and pillows, and drifted off to sleep.

_She opened her eyes with a pang, and bolted upright. The room was candle lit, and she could make out a couple of people standing by the opposite wall. Based on the noises she suspected she was the spectator of a heavy making-out session, and she felt a bit uncomfortable watching. In her own experience, those sloppy kisses and moans only lead one way; to the bed. And there was only one bed in the room, namely the king sized bed she was sitting in. She moved over as the couple crashed down on the bed._

"_Move over, sis! I'm due to do my wifely duty!"_

_Zelena fell backwards as her legs hit the edge of the bed, landing spread-eagled, while Robin was kissing every part of her neck and going south. His hands were all over her, and he hastily, but with great care, unbuttoned her shirt and continued his ministrations.  
She felt her blood curdle and her throat constricting. Why would he do this to her? And with her sitting right beside? He didn't notice her at all! _

_When he had completely rid Zelena of her clothes, she noticed the shape of her. This was the woman who taunted her about her dresses being too big, and that she had to take them in at the hips? Her hips were wide. Way too wide. And her boobs were threatening to break free. When did she get so busty? She could actually see the web of blue veins on them. And the stomach, not flat, not slightly curved, but an obvious rounded baby belly of around halfway gone._

_Zelena caught her staring. "I said I had a meatloaf in the oven, didn't I? Oh, and it's time for your wifely duties as well" she said, with a nod in the direction of the door as her giggle transformed into a lengthy moan. Robin's head was perfectly situated between her thighs. "Isn't it fun? Sisterly bonding in bed with our husbands!" _

_Regina was feeling more and more nauseated, as well as petrified. __Out of the shadows __she could see the old king__ walking up to her, and there was no way of escaping. She didn't know how __or when it happened__, but she was stark naked, sitting next to the cavorting couple that was her sister and her soul mate. __There was nothing to cover her, and she was desperately looking for something to shield her from the oncoming horror.__ She needed to get out of here now! She tried everything. Poofing, running, anything, but she __had lost the ability to do anything but__ closing her eyes tight. _

Pleasepleaseplease let this be a nightmare and let me wake up!_ She was unable to utter a single noise, and she kicked and let out a silent scream as someone yanked her feet so that she was on her back. Those all too familiar hands stroking her sides, the beard on her face and neck, her breasts and stomach, she yelped soundlessly as he bit down on a sore nipple, and she desperately tried to get away, but her hands and feet were tied. From the other part of the bed, she could hear those sounds of excruciating pleasure, and her own situation was all the grimmer because of the contrast. _

She_ was the one who should be caressed by Robin, his hands skimming _her_ sides, mouth kissing _her _stomach with the tenderness and loving he was showing her sister._

_She had _almost_ forgotten how painful the act was with no lubrication but his disgusting spit, and she tried her best to relax. _Think happy thoughts. Horses, butterflies, smiles and baby feet! _But it didn't work. It hardly ever did. She was and always would be hopelessly unable to free her mind from her body. __And then somebody put on a soundtrack. Oh God! He moved in rhythm with the music. She knew this tune; Tritsch-Tratch-Polka. How many times hadn't she danced to this in the kitchen while baking? The absurdity of the scene wasn't wasted on her, but she couldn't focus on anything but the physical and psychological pain. She felt like she was exploding from the built-up tension in her chest, and with every thrust he made, she was bleeding more and more, everything getting sticky, friction burning her insides. How could he get any satisfaction from this? She was sure that it must be uncomfortable for him as well, but he never seemed to care._

_As he reached his climax, he grunted and finally rolled off her. For a brief moment she thought it was over, and breathed out. That was when she felt the blow to her stomach. Repeatedly and with increasing force he delivered punch after punch, Strauss still mockingly playing in the background. _Voices of Spring_ this time. His beating took the form of a macabre ballet, and he just leered __at her__._

"_That should get the bastard out of you!"_

_With that he left, and she got her voice back, screaming on the top of her lungs, clutching her midsection. Screaming bloody murder as she felt the gush of blood out of her and staining the sheets. She was going to lose another one! She couldn't take it. It was too much!_

She shot up, leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom, no time for dressing or anything. Just in time she lurched over the toilet retching violently while tears ran hot down her face, her body tightening up for another round of regurgitating. _God, God, God! Please! _She was terrified, and loud sobs mixed with the coughing and spluttering. She registered the noise of running feet and Henry softly calling "Mom? What's wrong?"

What was wrong? Apart from having emptied herself in the most ghastly way, shivering like a Chihuahua in Vermont in January, clutching the toilet in nothing but her panties and sobbing like a wreck, absolutely everything!

She couldn't get out a coherent answer, so he grabbed her fluffy robe and draped around her shaking shoulders before sitting down beside her and pulled her in for a hug. She got the shivering under control, and then her voice returned. "Thank you Henry. It was getting a bit cold." She got up and poured herself a glass of water, rinsing first, then taking tentative sips. She most definitely did not trust her ability to keep it down, but she was desperately thirsty.

"Go back to bed. I'll be fine. I just need a moment to get myself together."

He eyed her suspiciously but said nothing.

"Please?"

He left her in the bathroom and closed the door. She carefully locked it, and went back to the toilet. She felt her insides churn as she sat down for a pee. It felt just like a pee, nothing out of the ordinary, and no stains. Still just a bad dream, then. She leaned forward and cried softly. The shivering continued, and her legs were jumping uncontrollably until she put them firmly on the ground and not just touching the floor with her toes. Her heart was no longer threatening to jump out of her chest or mouth or both. Bodily functions returning to normal. _Good. _At least something positive to hold on to.

She should be used to bad dreams by now, but it had been such a long time since these particular vile nightmares plagued her. Henry and Robin had effectively put her previous marriage in the backseat of her mind. Unfortunately, everything was so much stronger these days; emotions, smells, thoughts, dreams, aches…

The toilet seat was sticking to her thighs, and she could feel her toes going a bit numb. Time to get up and to bed again. The shivers had subsided and she was feeling more or less normal again. Come to think of it, she wasn't really experiencing any particular nausea, just a very violent urge to throw up.

_Not that that is very much better_, she thought to herself. Yes, it was comfortable to feel alright most of the time, but highly impractical to get hardly any warning before all hell broke loose.

She washed her face and filled the glass with water before going back to her bedroom. The night had taken its toll on her, and she was bone tired. Hopefully she would go back to sleep without any more trouble. She could afford to have a late morning, as there were no work or appointments before noon.

She groaned as she saw Henry laying comfortable under her duvet, patting the space beside him beckoning her to lay down.

"Didn't I send you to bed?" she asked a bit exasperated.

"You never specified _which _bed," he smiled. "And we need to talk."

She wondered why all of a sudden he had taken the role of the parent, and was not very happy about it. "Yes, we do." Suddenly remembering she was still only in a robe and knickers, she went to get out a pair of plaid flannel pants and a singlet and put on before returning to the bed.

How was she going to tell him? And how much? She was terrified of anything going wrong, and would really much rather deal with it on her own, as she had done the previous times, but if it turned out all right, she would rather tell sooner than later.

Henry squinted at her, and said with a cheeky grin "He knocked you up, didn't he?"

She was dumbstruck and her cheeks were suddenly on fire "Henry! Language!"

He had the decency to look a bit ashamed, but pushed on, prodding a finger to her stomach. "Sorry. But you are pregnant, right?"

Her throat was getting uncomfortable tight again, and her eyes leaked. "Yes," she croaked. "Yes I am."

"Thought so. At least for the last few days."  
He leaned into her and started stroking her belly carefully, and she tipped her head back, looking to the ceiling willing the tears back.

"It's going to be strange sharing you," he said "but I'm really looking forward to it!"

She stroked his hair, wondering how to explain all her worries without going into too much detail.

"We'll have to see if I carry to term first. It's more than a possibility that I miscarry within the next month or two. That's how it's been before."

"You've been pregnant before?" he asked.

"Three times, and all terminated before five months. The last time I actually thought it would turn out fine, but suddenly the movements stopped, and it was no more." She wiped away the silent tears and continued. "But I've got a feeling this time will be different. Maybe it's just a feeling, but I refuse to think negatively about it. I will make this a part of my happy ending."

Henry scuttled closer to her and whispered "I love you Mom!"

"Love you too, my little prince" she said as she kissed his hair. "Do you want to sleep here for the rest of the night?" He nodded and yawned.

She put her arms around him and hummed a lullaby while she thought about what to do the next day. She had chosen to save Robin and Roland, and in turn help Gold to turn Emma dark. However, she was still determined to double-cross the blasted imp. It would probably be dangerous, but she didn't really have a choice. She desperately clung to the hope that it would turn out okay. She couldn't afford to lose this time around too. Too much was at stake.

Tomorrow.

But right now, she would sleep, with both her children close and out of harm, sisters, ex-husbands and crazy mentors be damned.


	2. Confirmation

**AN: I'm obviously a master of changing my mind. This one, I'm blaming on the writers of Once Upon A Time. I'm not happy about the curve-ball they threw Regina, and my only way to cope is to continue my therapy through writing. **

**I'm reopening this story, just to add another one-shot. This is a collection of one-shots revolving around Zelena's meatloaf and Regina's thoughts. And spud.**

**I'm still just writing my headcanon, and I'm trying to fill in the parts that clearly lacks in the show.**

* * *

"Do you want to tell her? Or should I?"  
Zelena smiled! Right in her face. He wouldn't leave her in New York, for some mad reason or other.

When she spoke, her voice was far more insecure than she would have liked.  
"Tell me what?"  
_Please, not _that. _Please! __I don't need that too. Please!_

Nobody said anything, the suspense filled the room, and she was getting that cold water pumping through her veins again.

"Robin?"  
She was almost pleading now, both voice and eyes.

His face was pained, apologetic, before he answered.  
"She's pregnant."

_God no! __It can't be__! Please, get me out of this nightmare! _

She had really hoped it was her overactive imagination, her wicked sister and a massive lie. And here they were, in New York, a hellhole on earth, ripping apart her future. Rescuing a man she desperately loved and needed, who after all apparently didn't want to be rescued. He wanted to stay true to his word and his damned spawn in her sister's belly. And she herself was tossed away like a forgotten toy. God, it could not be happening!

"Well, this went down like a lead balloon in a tea cosy!" Zelena laughed while stroking her stomach in a sickeningly familiar manner.

_The accent! __It must be the accent. He loves her accent. It feels like home.  
_Her voice rang clear in her head, desperate for a good explanation, and failing miserably at that.  
_Oh Regina, you're starting to think nonsense. Get yourself together. You're a queen. Act it!  
_She wasn't sure if it was Regina the Queen or Cora knocking sense into her, but she gladly grabbed the mental lifebuoy the scolding provided. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She schooled her face into stern mayor mode, and she was quite certain she had regained full control of her voice.

"So, if that is the current situation, I'd better leave you two to play happy family. And by the way, how are you going to explain this sudden change of appearance to Roland?"

That was not exactly a speech from a unfazed soul, but for the time being, it was the best she could come up with. She didn't wait for an answer and turned on her heel. She needed to get out of there, and quickly, before her cover was blown.

Nobody followed her. _Good. _Maybe she could get away fast enough to find somewhere to break down alone and hidden. Her heels sounded loud and rhythmic as she descended the stairs as fast as she could go without breaking into a run.

Out on the street, she took a few deep breaths before striding purposefully towards the more crowded street a couple of blocks down. She needed to blend in fast to get away unseen. Following the current of pedestrians, she was on a constant lookout for a place to hide. Preferably somewhere secluded, like a narrow bridge, alleyway or a stairwell, or even a quiet brown pub with only drunkards who never would recognize her was welcome. She needed to sit down. Her head was swimming, and the feeling of not knowing whether or not she was feeling sick was gone. She was properly unwell.

A bit ahead to the left, she could spot a narrow alleyway, and slipped in as soon as she reached it. The noises of the city had _almost _cancelled out her thoughts screaming at her when she was on the sidewalk, but in here it was more distant, like background noise.

She had broken out in a cold sweat as soon as she stopped moving and her insides were in an uproar. She could hear herself repeatedly swallowing heavily, and the sudden gush of saliva in her mouth meant only one thing.

Looking desperately around, she turned to a conveniently positioned trash can and pulled off the lid. The pungent smell of rotting food and other obscure substances was a more effective emetic than a finger down her throat or any food disagreeing with her she had encountered so far, and she added her own foul odour to the content within seconds.

_If at first you don't succeed, then try, and try again!_

At least that was the way her stomach seemed to think. It simply didn't get empty enough with one go. After the first bout of regurgitating, she had leaned heavily against the brick wall and tried to get ahead again, but without warning, she was being violently sick again.

One time.  
_That is sickening to look at!_

Two times.  
_I should close my eyes! That would help._

Three.  
_Nothing but clear acid. _

Four.  
_The acid ha__s__ a green tint. Just like __my__ bloody pregnant sister! _

Five.  
_Green._ _Close your eyes, Regina! For Christ's sake! You are going to turn yourself inside out if you don't stop!_

She willed herself not to think and closed her eyes and nose, just to get rid of the smell and reduce the whole taste experience to a minimum. There would be no more gagging today!

God, it was disgusting! And painful. She didn't want to remember the last time she had been this sick. The mere thought of it made her feel the bile rising again.

Breathing heavily, she thought of other things; watermelon, cucumber, red, delicious apples, water.

The thought of watery food actually helped. The stomach settled somehow. She wiped her mouth and stood straight up. Time to get the Queen back! The disgusting remnants of her stomach content were running down the side of the bin. She was not even able to aim properly!

First things first; she needed to clean herself up. Reeking of vomit was not very queen like. The lid on one of the other bins was slightly dented, and a puddle of water had formed. She quickly washed the worst of her hands and shook her hands semi dry before stepping out on the street again.

She headed for the café they passed on the way to the apartment. She was hungry, thirsty and filthy, and bone tired! Wash first, chair next.

Luckily, the toilets were open for all customers, so she didn't have to ask for a key. She would rather not breathe on anybody right now.

The running hot water was soothing on her hands, and she meticulously washed every bit of them, cleaning her nails and just letting the skin turn red and soft. Scooping up handfuls of tepid water, she rinsed and gurgled until she was rid of the taste of sour acid and bitter bile. She carefully washed her face and touched up her make-up before she had a proper look in the mirror.

Her face was a bit fuller than usual, and her dress was on the snug side over her chest. Other than that, nothing was really visible. If she didn't know her signs so well, she could have been fooled into believing she was just not feeling too good. After all, she didn't get enough sleep or food, and the con she had been playing with the Queens of Darkness and the Dark One would have taken its toll no matter what state she was in.

She sighed and scratched her stomach. How on earth did she always get tangled up in mess such as this? She was on the verge of crying again, but one look in the mirror and her mask was back in an instant, ready to face the world.

She sat down at a table at the very back of the café, eyeing the few other guests. They were all stuffing down hamburgers and fries, and the mere thought of the stuff made her slightly nauseated again. She ordered a kale salad with a minimum of oil and without dressing, extra bread and a bottle of water. This was not the day for greasy, heavy stuff.

While she waited for her meal, she studied her fingernails and started to sort out her thoughts. Things didn't add up. Not at all.

She had been so damned happy when Robin chose her back by the lake. She couldn't believe it then, but he was so intense, so sincere, that she actually did believe in him and in a happy ending. And then Marian had gone cold on them again. Or had she? Was that another one of Zelena's tricks?

The Robin she knew would never do this to her! Or to himself, for that matter. Yes, he was a damned thief bound by his morals and ethics, and those things had held him from her when Marian first arrived in Storybrooke, but he also threw that away the night he chose her in the vault. He came to _her_, no matter how hard she tried to stay away from him, to make him fall back in love with Marian to save her. He was good and properly heartbroken when they said goodbye by the town line and she was sure he poured his soul in their last, wonderful kiss. He had desperately wanted to stay… That was her Robin. Not this...thing...that chose to stay in New York. Not stay with his wife, but with her sister. Who he by chance had impregnated sometime along the last nine weeks.

She furiously opened the water bottle and poured herself a glass. The salad arrived shortly after, and she attacked it with the same ferociousness. Her stomach was piping rather than growling by then, and needed immediately filling unless she wanted to get sick again.

After a few bites, she could feel her blood sugar rise, and relaxed a bit. That was when her phone decided to ring. She took it out of her pocket, and buzzed off. She was not ready to be found. Not even by the Saviour, who probably had the anti-Saviour in tow. The peace and quiet of the café was too soothing, and she was able to hear herself think again. Maybe she even got her stupid thoughts sorted out so that she had a real plan.

At the moment all she really could feel was being gutted, strung up by her arms and paraded through the streets on a wagon, with all the inhabitants wearing the faces of Robin and Zelena. They would mock her, kiss each other, play with Roland, make love…

What a fucked up mind she was equipped with!

Without warning her mask faltered, and hot tears streamed down her face. She couldn't stop picking at her cuticles, even though her hands were perfectly manicured and without a flaw. Anything to keep her occupied. She knew her crying face. It was not pretty. Desperately trying to pull herself together without succeding, she dived under the table to adjust the laces on her lace free boots.

"Regina?!"

The Saviour's voice rang through the café, and Regina automatically shot up, head colliding marvellously with the table. The pain was instant, blinding, crippling, and her teeth crashed together, biting into the side of her tongue. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and if she didn't cry before, she sure did now. She just stayed in her down position while sobs wrecked her body, and bent sideways to get up and _not_ collide with the table again when she felt an arm draping itself over her back. She crossed her arms on the table and continued to cry into the crook of her arm. The hand on her back kept rubbing soothing circles, and not a word was said for a couple of minutes.

"You are a marvel at escaping, even without magic. You know that?"

Regina snorted, as she drew in snot in a highly un-royal manner.  
"Nobody but my mother would be able to trace me if I really tried to escape."  
_And that damned thief_, she added to herself.

"Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom", she said as she suddenly got up. The Saviour followed close by, not wanting to lose her again.

As she washed her face again (it would soon dry up if she didn't add any moisture!), and inspected her tongue, she could see Emma carelessly slumped against the wall with her arms and legs crossed.

"You know you should have told him?"

"Told him?"  
She put her tongue back in. The bleeding had stopped, and she was testing it gingerly against her teeth. The swelling would cause another biting incident if she wasn't careful.

"Yea, you know…" Emma said with a nod in the direction of her stomach.

"That's not an issue any more. It's not a reason for him to come back. If he can't choose me over his dead wife, or my _sister_, he doesn't get either of us!"  
Her voice was laced with venom it had lacked for years, and even she herself was a bit surprised by it.

She went on to inspect the back of her head with her hands. A bump had started to form, but there was no blood. Thank God! Her hair would mask any swelling or bruising.

"But what I don't get," she continued in a softer voice, "is that he doesn't seem like the man who left Storybrooke. I don't know what's different, but through and through, he came back to _me_ in the end. Even when we both were together with Marian. Or Zelena, to be more accurate. I don't get it! It's like a missing piece of a puzzle. Or a slightly off puzzle piece in a complete picture. I'm so confused, sad, angry, tired. I don't know what to do!"  
She sighed and leaned on the sink.

"On one hand, I want nothing to do with the bastard, but on the other hand, I crave him like oxygen. How could he?! And with my sister? He fucked my sister repeatedly, for Christ's sake!" She almost screamed as she ran a hand through her hair.

This was a nightmare. She was living a badly written soap opera where the writers really had it in for her. And that was it! She could clearly hear the voice of that evil scientist Gru screaming _Lightbulb!_

"The author! He's in league with mr. Gold! Could he have written Zelena pregnant? Or Robin totally out of character? " She was grasping at straws, she knew that, but oh! If only.

Emma looked like she thought it over.  
"You are the magic expert. Does it work like that?"

"I don't know! I just want Robin back and this whole Zelena-thing erased! Erased from history, from memory!"

And another horrible thought struck her. If the author could write a pregnancy, could he also delete one? She looked herself in the mirror again, and thought of her previous musings over her symptoms. 12 weeks pregnant – a 10 weeks old foetus growing. Or was it? Had it been erased? How would she ever know?

She stared wide-eyed and scared at Emma.

"Could he have erased my baby?"

She cradled her middle and prayed that it was not so. She didn't know if she would recover if that was the fact. Maybe that was the way her sister had meant to finally destroy her?  
But nobody knew about her pregnancy. Apart from Henry, and apparently the equally observant Saviour. She had kept it a secret not only because she feared miscarriage, but also because she really didn't trust Rumplestiltskin longer than his nose.

It might still be a secret she had managed to keep.

"I don't know..." Emma looked sceptical. "Do you _feel _pregnant still?"

"Yeah. I do. It just doesn't show very much. But I feel it, both the funny pressure in the pelvic region and all the other things. I'm just so terrified of loosing this one too!"

She bit her tongue again as she understood what she had said, and cursed under her breath. Both because she momentarily had forgotten about her already bitten tongue, and because of her sudden revelation.

"This one too? You have Henry, you know!"

"Yes I have."

"But?"  
The nosey brat of the blabbering brat wasn't letting this one go.

"But all the others I've pushed away permanently. And absolutely not on purpose. The fact that your mother is an only child wasn't for lack of trying. Or conceiving. It's just the finishing part I'm not particularly good at." She glanced at herself in the mirror again, but was too perturbed by the image that she had to look somewhere else. The soap dispenser, for instance. Good choice.

"Wow. Really?"

"That's your best answer? Yes really!"  
She was peeved, and quite frankly, she felt the need to run again, but she needed to stop this conversation from getting outside these walls.

"And don't you dare peep a word of this to _anyone_! Not now, not ever! And I'll know if you have blabbed!"

"Cross my heart!" Emma piped up, as she straightened up and crossed her heart.

"Now, where is this Spawn of the Dragon? You didn't let her lose, did you?"

Emma shook her head.  
"I left her with Robin. He promised to look after her."

Regina groaned.  
"Yes. That would be the sensible thing to do, wouldn't it? Let's go. I need to find the author to righten this mess. And we're bringing the lot back to Storybrooke!"


	3. Unexpected spud

**A/N: I'm not fond of retconing, I'm sad to announce that this chapter might be seen as a retcon. Regina's infertility slots perfectly into my head canon, but because of how I've written the previous chapters, the premises have been slightly altered and I need to right this. Hopefully.**

**_This_**** is why I don't like to write stories while a certain plotline is unfurling, but rather write a complete story from A-Z. **

* * *

Two weeks of crying herself to sleep, two weeks of dragging herself out of bed, living in a bubble of lack of sleep, lack of food and intense fatigue. He had left two weeks ago. She was left behind. She had _told _him to leave with his wife and son. And she was feeling like shit. Of course she was. She had done the right thing.

The getting up in the morning had become increasingly hard, and this morning was the worst yet. Somebody had certainly been steamrolling over her the entire night. There was no other possible explanation for feeling so battered. She tossed the duvet aside and rolled out of bed with a groan. _What to wear?_ What kind of day was it?

Dressing according to her mood was and had always been essential to how she presented herself. If a day was shitty, you could bet your ass Madame Mayor or the Queen was dressed to kill, but the attire could be just as fierce when the mood was good, so in the end, it would be hard to spot the really bad days. Snappiness wasn't really a good indicator either.

She sighed as she rummaged through her dresser. This was indeed a shitty day just by waking up. She hadn't even needed to open her eyes to understand that. The only slack she could afford was comfortable lingerie. _Something soft, preferably close to air._ She picked out her only wireless bra and a matching pair of knickers. That would have to do. To cover up the informality she decided a black, knee length pencil skirt and a royal blue silk blouse would do the trick. _Good_.

She went to the bathroom, and as she closed the bathroom door she locked it. Her attire was put on a chair for later. Carefully, she undressed and looked at herself in the mirror. She _looked _like shit too. First of all, she suspected somebody had nicked some U-No-Poo from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and slipped in her drink.

_The constipation sensation has certainly gripped this nation_. She sniggered at her own joke. She could actually see the result of her constipation, as her normally flat stomach was taut as a small balloon all the way from her ribs down to her pelvis.

_Well, how old am I really now? Sixty five – seventy? That is about when the oldies start to keep track on their faeces, isn't it? _She prodded two fingers hard into the right side of her stomach, and could actually feel the trapped air move along her large intestine while it groaned in protest, along with her groaning and wincing as the whole thing hurt.

_Grose! But it's fairly useful as a drum _she mused as she started tapping a rhythm while taking a few dance steps. She looked up again, and halted the idiotic scene immediately. Seeing herself in the mirror, dancing naked and drumming her stomach was not something she intended to continue doing.

She went to carefully poke the side of her left breast with her forefinger and hissed. _Too sore to manhandle like that_. _And _her nipples were itching. She did, however, resist the urge to scratch, because that would certainly hurt like a bitch. She knew she had a lidocaine ointment somewhere, and made a mental note to add some to her itchy parts when she was done in the shower.

Secondly, her lack of sleep had not done anything to improve her ever cheery disposition, _or _the bags under her eyes. She glared at her reflection and eyed a newly formed pimple at the bottom of her lip. _Queens should be flawless_. Her fingers automatically shot up and scratched the surface of the little bugger and it popped and left a little drop of blood.

Thirdly, she _had_ lost some weight, and if she didn't get her appetite back, the weight loss would probably continue for a while. Even she didn't think she needed to lose weight, so eating more regularly, no matter how bland the food tasted, was added to the to-do-list.

The fourth note on the imaginary list was how she was constantly feeling on edge. She was more prone to snapping than she had been for a very long time, and even when she was in the middle of a rage fit she would have to concentrate to keep the frustrated tears from glazing her eyes. And yet, there was a certain calmness that scared her more than the rage.

Honestly, she hadn't felt this kind of off for decades. But it couldn't be. It was absolutely impossible. She had seen to that.

She decided to leave her musings for later and stepped into the shower after a quick visit to the toilet where she could ascertain that there was still no blood in sight. The scolding water was incredibly soothing for her aching body and the noise of the waterfall equally soothing for her brain. The minty freshness of her body wash opened her airways, and she just hummed satisfied as the mint and tea tree oil tingled and did its wonders at the places her skin was thinnest. She took a deep breath before rinsing it off and lathering her hair. One thing was certain – she didn't miss the bathing arrangements of the Enchanted Forest! Most of the time, she would just enjoy being able to undress herself, check herself and wash herself, without _any_ spectators. She could do it whenever she wanted, and nobody needed to know. She knew it was a stupid little thing, but that definitely was one of the perks of not being a queen. The constant surveillance, especially under Leopold's rule, was annoying at best, but most of the time way past intrusive.

She turned off the shower and squeezed the water out of her hair. Most of all she wanted to slip back to bed and skive off the whole damned day, just drying under the duvet and forget there was a world outside of the fluffiness and darkness of her room. But she couldn't. She was the mayor, and mayors go to work, even if the world is crumbling down.

_Just follow the plan;_  
* wrap hair in towel  
* towel dry body  
* apply body lotion all over body, extra careful on boobs. Be sure to moisture them well on the side and partly under to avoid any dry skin whatsoever. Remember to apply lidocaine on nipples.  
* put on underwear and stockings when properly dry  
* blow dry hair  
* apply basic makeup, deodorant and perfume  
* complete dressing  
* put the finishing touch on hair and makeup

The skirt was high waist and fixed just below her rib, and it allowed a bit of bloating, but she could feel it would still be a bit uncomfortable sitting down in it. She decided to walk to the office, in case that would get her system going. Otherwise happy with the result, she locked herself out of the bathroom and went back to her room to find shoes. She noted the 7:05 on her bedside table and decided she was enough ahead of schedule to prepare a decent breakfast before she needed to be at the office at 8:00. Henry spent his night at the loft, so she was pretty much free to spend the morning however she desired.

Looking into the fridge she couldn't find anything in there remotely tempting.  
_So much for a decent breakfast._ She took out the milk and the apple juice, and went to get the oat meal and sugar. As she reached for the coffee, she decided to skip hot beverage that morning. Smacking her tongue, she opted for diluted apple juice rather than pure juice, and filled a jug of water.

Breakfast was gulped down within ten minutes, and she left the house at 7:20. The fresh breeze made her oddly satisfied, and she needed to keep herself from literary skipping down the street like a happy school girl. She slowed down as she came to the pharmacy. It was open, and she _was_ very curious…

The bell over the door jingled as she entered, and the sneezy dwarf greeted her.  
"What can I do for you, Madame Mayor?"

"Nothing" she said as she looked around. She was alone with the dwarf. _Perfect! _She waved a gloved hand in front of him, and he slowly fell to the floor.

Walking towards the aisle of Feminine hygiene she felt a knot tightening in her stomach, along with an overactive flock of butterflies that apparently had been let loose inside her ribs. Was she really doing this? She carefully looked around. Still nobody else there, but she couldn't afford to be interrupted. She went back to the front door, locked it and turned the sign so that it read _Closed_. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and headed back to the dreaded aisle. There were so many tests, and she had no freaking idea which one to choose. Maybe she should take one of each, in case one was faulty. They couldn't all be duds, could they? She grabbed one of each, a total of nine. Quickly she went behind the counter, found a calculator and worked out the sum before putting a rough estimate under the till, just a corner of the notes sticking out. She bagged the tests, went back to open the door and turn the sign, and returned in the right position for waking up the dwarf again. He opened his eyes and looked right into the concerned face of the Mayor.

Flustered he sat upright and felt his head.  
"I'm sorry. I usually don't faint…do you need anything?"  
Ever the salesman.

"I just popped in to see if you had multivitamins", she smiled and took a box from the shelf by the counter.

"That's all?" he asked.

"That's all."

"Well, good day to you, Madame Mayor!"

"Good day to you too!"

She left with a half-smile, feeling like a teenager smuggling condoms. And in a way, she sort of was. Only, she didn't remember to use condoms and needed to check if the bareback ride had left a spud.

The tests would surely burn a hole in her purse. She felt everybody eyed her with suspicion as she passed them on the street. Even people she never had talked to seemed to look at her in a new way, and some of them she didn't even recognize.

She informed her receptionist that she was not to be disturbed until noon. In case the girl didn't do as instructed and kept visitors outside, she moved over to the table at the side of her office. That way she wasn't the first thing an unwelcomed guest would see. She grabbed her purse and rummaged through it. Of all the places she kept things, her purse was the least organized, and she briefly wondered if it was possible to stack shelves and label them in there – kind of like Hermione had done with her beaded bag. _I've got to stop these Harry Potter references!_ She scolded herself. And yet, they kept popping up. She must have read the whole series least five times for Henry, and she had probably enjoyed them even more than him.

Nine tests. Some were the same brand, but to be taken either in stream or in a urine sample. Usually she went to the bathroom two times during a work day; one right before lunch, and one just before she left. Six test were "in stream", and three needed sample. If she used the same sample for two tests, and put one in the stream each time, she could get five results before dinner. _I'm scheduling my peeing. Pull yourself together Regina. It's probably your mind fucking you up. Or your body. You can't be pregnant. Stupid girl!_

Even her own scolding had her welling up. If she indeed _was_ pregnant, she would do all in her power to make it this time. It would actually mean the world to her. But if she wasn't, something was definitely not right with her body, and she needed to sort it out anyway. Her hands were shaking slightly, and her mouth was dry. The instructions claimed that morning urine was best, but no way was she waiting a whole day to find out. God, she didn't even know how she would be able to wait until lunch!

She started to put the test back in her purse, and as if on cue, the doors to her office blew open and the sheriff burst in. She hastened her moves, and shoved them all in the purse, and put it quickly under the table. Totally inconspicuous.

"What was that? Are you hiding something?"

"Just my porn. Why are you bursting into my office when I clearly instructed my receptionist to keep everybody out of here until noon?"  
Her heart was racing and the knot in her stomach was tight, but she was still annoyed by the intrusion and it clearly showed.

Emma just lifted an eyebrow and looked for more signs of whatever she was looking for.  
"Yeah, well. No, nothing in particular. I just wanted to see how you were doing back in the mayoral seat."

"You certainly don't know your place miss Swan. I have more important things to do than to sit here and chat with you. Don't you have a doughnut to eat or a coffee to drink, or whatever you spend the time at the station doing?"

Emma laughed.  
"It's been rather quiet since the Ice Queens left, and the noise at the station is unbearable at the moment. They're fixing my hole."

Regina rolled her eyes and went back to the desk and rummaged through the drawer to find the notes for the budget.

"Well, find someplace else to sooth your ears. I'm busy for the rest of the day, so you'd better be off and sheriff the town. Bye."  
She logged in on her computer and hoped a busy look would get the sheriff out of her hair, but no such luck, apparently.

"We'd like to have you for dinner tonight at the loft. At 6. Be there?"

She sighed and looked up.  
"I'll be there. But you lot better not serve me tripe or any other disgusting of the offal description."

Emma laughed again.  
"Not a chance. I think some kind of white fish is on the menu. See you later!"

And then she left. Finally. Regina felt her shoulders drop and she leaned back in her chair breathing deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth. No need to stress. Only half an hour till lunch now. Did she feel a bit like peeing? She prodded her bladder, and the need to pee increased. Actually, the need became so urgent that she got out of her chair and ran to the purse to grab three tests before hopping a bit up and down to be able to walk calmly to the toilet.

The first test she opened was one that needed a sample. It came with a cup, and she decided that she probably should sample first and "stream" later. That was, if she could control it. She couldn't remember ever having taken a urine sample, and was all of a sudden not sure if she would be able to aim, or stop the flow in time. It couldn't be that difficult, could it?

It was not difficult after all, but it was not her favourite task either. She didn't really know if she had missed or not, because the sample was hot to the touch, but as she put the cup on a wad of paper on the floor she could see it was totally dry on the outside and her fingers were dry too. She unwrapped the other sample stick, and dipped them both for the right amount of seconds before she put them on a separate wad of paper and went to open the third one. She put it under the stream, and put that one too along with the other two.

And then she had to wait. Agonizingly long minutes. She wanted so badly to be pregnant that she didn't know how to get through the rest of the workday if she wasn't.

_Two minutes left. __Two minutes of believing I'm actually growing a person. Two minutes of wishful thinking. Two minutes until my dream turns into the bland grey that is the backdrop of my life. Grey like a communist uniform, but with stars bursting through like I'm sitting inside a steel colander. I don't _need_ another baby. I have the child I've always wanted. Maybe this is all a stupid scare and for the best anyway. _

_*Beep-beep-beep*_

The alarm on her phone ripped her out of her partly derailing train of thoughts. Her hands were clammy, and she dried them on the skirt pooling around her knees. She had been sitting on the toilet for more than ten minutes! Nobody had knocked on the door yet. Did she want to look? She wasn't sure. The bliss of not knowing was tempting, but oh, she needed to know! She leaned forward and glanced down at the sticks by her feet. Two stripes. Two plus-signs.

At first she couldn't breathe, but then she was able to draw a shuddering breath and her lower lip was trembling uncontrollably as she fought to keep in a sob that threatened to burst from her. This was not possible! She couldn't get pregnant. The potion... Could there be another explanation? Was she really going to be a mother again? Or would this one leave her like the other three? She couldn't even think about it. Her hands hovered above her stomach, not really daring to touch it with the tenderness and anticipation she felt in every fiber of her body. At least it was an easy task to determine date of conception; there was only the time in her vault. But how? Was the sperm of a soulmate equipped with magic strong enough to break the curse?

She wrapped up the tests and put them back in their boxes and wrapped another sheet around all three packages before returning to her office.

The rest of the workday went by in a haze and she was sure she had done nothing of significance that day, but somehow all she could think about was a potential spud in her dysfunctional baby parts.

Most of all she wanted to be able to tell Robin, but that was out of the question. Actually, she didn't know anybody else she wanted to tell at this stage. There were too many elements of uncertainty to let anything slip yet. And even three tests could be faulty.

Back home she knew she had a few baby books she bought when she was planning to adopt. Granted, most of them concentrated on the baby's first year, but there was this one; one she had hardly opened because it was mainly about the journey from conception to birth. It just seemed like a book to buy along with the others, but she always felt the sting in her heart when she flipped through it and in the end she just put it away. No matter how unwillingly she wedded and bedded the king, she had not once _not_ wanted her babies.

She knew she did the right thing when she drank the potion. Her mother _would_ have used any offspring of hers to take power and probably killed her in the process, no matter how much she had insisted that her only concern was Regina's happiness. She didn't regret the action, but the pain of her loss had never quite died. It had been dulled throughout the years, and honestly, she had never met a man she deemed fit for fathering her children after Daniel died, so it was more the notion that she couldn't even if she wanted that pained her. She had effectively closed a door.

And now that door had a faint shine through the keyhole and around the edges, as if hope was seeping out of it. That was the scariest part, the hope that everything would turn out okay. She was sure other bad thoughts would come and take over as her pregnancy proceeded. Her defences were severely lowered just by the natural mellowing pregnancy always brought her, and she was more vulnerable than she cared to admit.

Every child she had engaged in had at one point or other left her. True, she didn't go the right way about neither Hansel and Gretel nor Owen, but _Henry_, Henry she loved with her whole being, she would let her life before his feet and in the end, she was still really scared that he forever would rate her second best. She always had the nagging feeling that if she didn't perform at her best he would always slip back to his _real_ mom. She knew he loved her, but he would always have the choice to go to someone else. And quite frankly, who wouldn't leave the Evil Queen if they had the chance?

Drying her tears and checking her reflection in the mirror, she packed up an hour early and went home. The rest of the tests could wait until she was in the safety of her own house, with nobody barging in unannounced or in desperate need of her particular toilet cubical. _And _she could cry all she wanted without bothering anybody. She needed to empty herself of tears and fears and happiness before dinner if she intended to keep this a secret until it was too obvious to hide. Or, if she was more realistic, for as long as it took her body to expel the life from her and let it go unnoticed by everyone but her.

As she reached her front door she locked herself in and headed straight to the bathroom. Six more tests to go, and she would try and pee on five of them, as well as leaving a sample. To her great surprise, that was an easy task, and she found herself pacing the bathroom as she waited for the results. _Five more minutes. _She would have time to get that pregnancy book from her study before the alarm sounded. And she did. As the alarm went off, she was back in the bathroom figuring out her due date and current week of pregnancy. If conception _had_ occurred three weeks ago, she was in her fifth week of pregnancy, and had approximately 35 weeks left.

She put the book aside and went over to the sink to look at the tests. Four positive, two negative. _Oh God! Am I not pregnant after all? _Her throat constricted again, and she welled up for the umpteenth time that day. Hastily wiping her eyes she tossed the tests in the bin and went to her bedroom where she undressed and buried herself under the duvet. She did not intend to get up until 5. She would be able to get in shape and be at the loft in time in an hour. At the moment she only wanted to cry and sleep.

_But, _she reasoned, _7 out of 9 were positive. That's like 80 % chance of pregnancy. And my body is 100 % certain. Until something definitely tells me I'm _not _pregnant, I'm treating myself as if I am. Like now. Sleep._

She closed her eyes and mind, and went to sleep.

Two hours later she was knocking at the un-Charming's door, ready for anything. The door opened, and a relieved Snow handed her baby Neal almost before she had passed the threshold.  
"Hang your coat over there, and if it's okay you can entertain him until dinner is served?"

Of course she could! She smiled and nodded as she and the little boy headed for the sofa. Keeping an infant happy and entertained was after all one of her fortes. She _did_ really get the hang of it after that initial stressful first period with Henry. Most people probably never thought about her as the maternal type, or anything but a fierce leader, but that was not how she had started out. Snow knew her mothering side, Henry knew, but as she cast a glance at the gang bustling around the kitchen, she could see that neither unCharming, the Saviour or the pirate fully trusted her to not kill the little tyke in her lap. It actually stung, and she returned her focus to the boy as her hand was suddenly covered in drool. She resisted the urge to immediately dry it off on the sofa, and instead she stood up and walked over to the crib to fetch a cloth.

"Is this how you handled me?"

She turned around and saw Henry eyeing her with a curious expression and felt a broad grin spreading across her face.

"Not exactly, but in the principle, yes. You were mine, so I could smother you and pepper you with kisses all I wanted."

He scrunched up his nose in teenager disgust, but couldn't conceal the half-embarrassed smile she loved so much.

"It seems so natural when you handle him. I always feel like I'm doing something wrong, as if I'm going to drop him if he makes an unexpected move or when he tenses up to let out one of those ear-splitting wails of his."

"Well, you were, apart from my perfect little prince, also the first baby I ever handled. And to be frank, it took a bit getting used to, and you weren't pleased until I was good and properly relaxed. Babies are pretty much like horses in that way. If you tense up, they tense up, and nothing productive will ever come out of it. But the reward is always worth the effort you put into it. Just look at yourself. I'm so proud of you that I don't know how to express myself."

He reddened a bit and hugged her before he jumped away in disgust as his uncle spit up on him.

"Yeah, I think that's also a thing you two have in common. I got pretty good at keeping my shoulders covered in cloths at almost all time." She giggled and wiped Neal's mouth and hand before replacing the cloth with a clean one. He started to whimper and she suspected it was time for his nap. Snow came to fetch him, and she handed him over to his mother who effectively put him to bed.

Dinner was served shortly thereafter, and they were actually having a good time all of them together. The white fish she was promised turned out to be lemon-caper baked cod and she was happily surprised that the dish not only agreed with her, but seemed to have just the right taste to make it a dish fit for a queen. She hadn't eaten that much for weeks, and gladly asked for second helping.

By 9:30 she was knackered, and had to excuse herself. She needed her beauty sleep, she claimed, and said a hearty goodbye. Henry went home with her, and all was right in the world again.

Back home, Henry went to bed without protests and was well tucked in by 10. She yawned and stretched before turning in herself.

The day had turned out far better than she expected that morning, and for the road ahead, she would have to take one step at a time. For the time being, she would just enjoy being pregnant. In time she would reveal it to the rest of the world, when she was sure that nothing, or no one, would harm her spud. Not her, not anybody else.

She decided to start a nightly ritual of talking to the little thing. No harm in that? Her hands were gently caressing her stomach as she started to talk, voice barely above a whisper in the dark.  
"You know, little one, I'm your mother, and I'm not letting you go so easy. And even if you leave me, you'll always be my child. I don't know whether or not you'll ever know your father, but I'm really trying to get him back to us sometime in the foreseeable future. For the time being, it's just you and me. I'll inform your brother a bit later, when you have decided to stay with us. Love you. Good night, Spud!"

She smiled and kept tracing patterns below her bellybutton. Yes, she would be happy as long as she could. After all, she needed to take advantage of the great heights to cope during the ultimate lows she was sure to encounter in the weeks to come.


	4. Smokescreen

"So, what's your plan?"  
Emma added a couple of running steps to her stride to keep up with the determined powerwalk of Regina.

"I need to talk to Robin. Go back to the apartment and tell him to meet me at the bar down there."  
She pointed at a sign that read "The Tavern".

"You need keep watch over the bitches, and I need to get a bit of planning done before sorting this out."  
Emma gave a curt nod, and left her.

The bar was bustling with life, and she thought to herself that taverns in New York certainly were much fancier than in the Enchanted Forest. Not to mention cleaner. Every table was occupied, so she headed for the empty stools by the bar and sat down.

No matter how this encounter would play out, she was going to make him chose good and properly. Under no circumstance was she willing to go through the uncertainty and achy-breaky heart she had struggled with ever since the return of the dead. She was bound and determined to find out exactly _how_ he was reasoning, and what he intended to do. _If _he should try and get back with her, she needed to know it was because of her, and not because of that damned honour of his. Ergo; no hint of her growing anything. All she was certain of at this point was, as she had said to Emma, that they would take the lot back to Storybrooke as fast as humanly possible. She would not stay one day longer here than absolutely necessary. Her mind was in overdrive, and it was hard to keep a straight line of thoughts.

She went back to making mental notes and trying to follow the list to the T. First, the most effective smokescreen for pregnancies was alcohol. She knew she had pulled that one off with the queens of darkness in their already alcohol induced state. Robin would probably be just as easily fooled. She ordered a glass of whiskey, picked up her bag and went to the toilet for a little rehearsal. Secondly, she honestly had no idea, and concluded that emotionless winging was the route to follow.

Luckily, she was the only one in the little girls' room, so nobody could eye her with suspicion or ridicule. She supposed practising in front of the mirror would look even more stupid to an incidental passer-by than to her.

_Mirror, mirror on the wall...will this look like drinking at all?  
_How much did she need to tip the glass, and how tight should she close her lips to make it look natural without getting anything past her lips? After all, she _had_ intended to drive home tonight without being charged of DUI, so a careful sip every now and then, maybe even only one, would suffice to keep the cover. At least she hoped it would. And the glass would provide something to hold on to and play with, in case she needed it.

Within minutes the move was perfected, and after a quick visit to the stalls she went back out. As she rounded the corner, she could see he was already sitting by the bar. Her stomach did the same somersault it always did when she suddenly saw him some place she didn't quite expect, and she was feeling very uncertain and out of control, like a teenager about to talk to a scary crush. That was apparently not a feeling one grew out of, but she needed to suppress the teenager fast.

The thing she was most concerned about was the conflict between her urge to beat him to a pulp and leave him without a second glance, and the equally strong desire to cling to him and beg him to never ever leave her again, and let him kiss her into oblivion. No matter how much she detested the whole bloody mess they were tangled up in, she was so deeply into him that the mere thought of never seeing him again made it harder to breathe.

At least he had agreed to meet her in private, so he must see the need for a conversation just between the two of them. When she was certain her expression was correct, she turned directly towards him and walked over. She sat down by the bar, a corner dividing them. In order to keep her face straight and rather unfazed, she stared straight ahead as she calmly held around her whiskey glass and traced the rim with her finger. He had ordered one of his own, she noticed. Obviously the evening for strong pick-me-ups.

He didn't say a word and was partly hunched over the bar, one hand on his glass, the other altering between running through his hair, wiping his brow and supporting his head that seemed too heavy to keep up on its own. She started to tap a slow rhythm with her glass on the counter. The barman had provided her with a napkin as a coaster, so the thumping was a bit more dulled than glass on wood, but still the sound was clear in the silence between them.

"So…"  
She didn't really know how to start, but had to break the silence somehow.

"Yeah…"  
He seemed equally unsure.

"So you moved on. With her."  
Her face was still blank and she had fixed her gaze on the rows of liquor bottles on the shelf in front of the bar mirror. If she as much as cast a glance his way, she was sure to crumble. Of all the elements in this farce, the fact that he moved on was the one that hurt the most. Everything else was just seasoning and condiments. True, they were just as ill tasting as the main course, but they would never exist if it was not for the…

_God! How on earth am I going to finish this ordeal and still be able to hold my head high?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a snivelling that annoyed her to no end, but she kept her façade.

"That's not fair. You understood. You agreed!"  
He even had the audacity to sound indignant! Her blood was boiling, and the need to scream was enormous. Of course she had agreed. She had urged to him save his wife's life, to leave the apparently still active curse that was fed by the magic in Storybrooke. Because that was the only decent thing to do. It was the only option! However, she did not for one second imagine him forgetting _her_ and continue on with his life as if she didn't exist. Not only his life, mind you, but to go back to live with Marian as his wife!

"Understanding it and seeing it are different."  
Even an idiot would understand _that_. Couldn't he see what this seemed like for her? Didn't he understand that she felt both betrayed and belittled? She wasn't even good enough for her _soulmate_ to fight for. Just a few weeks apart, and he had not hesitated to bed and impregnate his dead wife! And her sister. Somehow it sounded worse when she thought about it – as if he had had it off with multiple hoes, rather than only his wife. But _nothing_ was good about this. It was all sickening and disturbing and crazy!

"That's hardly the most important point here. My son! Zelena's not gonna keep wearing that glamour, and Roland's not gonna understand where his mother's gone. For him to lose her again!"  
That made no sense. It had nothing whatsoever to do with her previous sentiment! But she got the gist; she was not the important thing. She never was. And to be honest, she _had_ already voiced her concern about Roland and how to explain this mess for him. All that excuse for a man had done was to look at her with a pained expression and his mouth half agape.

Her mind was derailed again. How could two words be spelled just the same way, and yet be worlds apart? Agape. Stupid word, stupid hope, stupid love.

She got back on track and replied in a milder voice.  
"A forgetting potion. Just take him back to before the fake Marian showed up. He'll lose time, but it's better, right?"  
She knew she gave him an easy way out, but she didn't have it in her to fight at the moment. And he _did_ have a point. There was no way she wanted this mess to make things harder for Roland than absolutely necessary. She would go to great lengths to protect that little man.

"Yes! Thank you."  
The reply came too quickly. He was agreeing to anything, just to keep her satisfied, or whatever he was trying to do! He needed a punch in the teeth! But still, she kept her mildly exasperated mask on and answered with a hardly detectable nod.

Apparently, her mind wasn't the only one going haywire and all over the place. He was retracting again, and she could positively feel the frustration and downright pain radiating off him in waves, like coloured sound waves with spikes directed at her soul. She took a sip of her glass, and put it back down. The taste of whiskey lingered on her lips and was some sort of comfort.

"God! Poor Marian! And…Zelena just killing her like she meant nothing so that she could play this sad farce with us. I just… I wanna…"  
He was taking a deep breath and looked like he was altering between crying and strangling anything that could pose as Zelena. At the moment the bar got the brunt of his rage. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened and he sat straight up for a second before deflating again.

"But I can't. I mean, I knew that things didn't feel right, but I just didn't know why."

No matter how pissed off she was, she couldn't shut out his pain. Was that some kind of soulmate connection? His anger, frustration and desperation seemed to lace itself in between her own pain and made everything ten times worse. And yet, her anger seemed to diminish somehow, at least for a moment. She reached for his hand and held it in hers as she gently swept it with her thumb.

"I'm sorry. This was all about me. For her this was all about making sure I never get my happy ending."  
She was entering a yet undiscovered part of her confused mind, one that actually saw past her own troubles and glanced out of a window and saw the turmoil that was in her wake. She _did_ screw everything up, didn't she? It never boded well for men who fell in love with her. Eventually she would somehow destroy them. It was devastating.

"If by happy ending you mean us, then… at least still in a way, that's possible again?!"

His voice was a bit lighter, hopeful almost. She looked at him with a frown and he bowed his head and waved his hand at her, as if to stop any further protests. She just kept looking at him, in case he actually came up with something useful.

"It's messy, I know, but…between us…"

_Useful? Yeah, right!_ She cut him off with an exasperated laugh.

"There's a huge obstacle! And it's going to get bigger every day, not just for nine months either! It's a lifetime she is cooking in there. No matter what happens from now on, there's going to be this child. You're tied together in a way…in a way we'll never be."

_Pretend! Remember the pain and desperation! L__ie through your teeth, Regina. He needs to know that he'll never have a child of yours. Make it sting. Make him choose you for the right reason!_

Judging by his puzzled expression and the sudden change as the words sunk in, she reckoned she had pulled it off. She could easily imagine how utterly devastating the news would have been if she had _not_ known she was in fact cooking something equally long-term. As long as she carried to term, that was. She did not want to think about that now. Crying was not part of this particular plan. She finished off the rant in a voice closer to a whisper, almost to herself.  
"I was such an idiot to think life wouldn't kick me in the teeth again."

She didn't look at him, but could feel his eyes drill a hole in her head. After a pregnant pause that probably didn't last for more than a couple of seconds, he spoke.

"I hear you. Just…"

"Just what?"  
She snapped, for the first time that night. Her temper was running short by then, and she could feel an all too familiar headache creeping up upon her.

"What do we do now?"  
His tone was back to normal; matter-of-factly and without a trace of anything remotely annoying. He needed answer to a problem, and for once this evening she could give him an answer.

"I'll rent a car, and we're all going back to Storybrooke. I'm not staying here one minute longer than necessary."

She got up and collected her bag, and as they headed for the door, she felt him putting his hand at the small of her back to escort her out, like that was the most natural gesture in the world. As usual, the light touch sent sparks up her spine, but unlike every other time, these sparks made her feel creeped out and violated, and she turned abruptly towards him and hissed; "If you ever touch me like that again, Robin of Locksley, I'm going to see to that you won't be able to touch _anything_ for the next fifty years!"

His hand snapped away as if she had burned him, and his hurt expression was evident for everybody. She took a step to the left and effectively put half a meter between them, and as she sped up to get a bit ahead of him, she felt oddly satisfied. Nothing particular productive had come out of this little rendez-vous, but she had a feeling that with a bit of work from both parts, and a massive cooling down on her part, they would eventually find a solution.


	5. Roadtrip part I

They were finally on their way, and Roland was already fast asleep in the car seat as they were driving out of New York. She was not looking forward to the 7 or 8 hours long drive back to Storybrooke, but they had all agreed that the current seating arrangement was the most practical. Not under any circumstance would Regina want to find herself trapped in a car with her sister, and she was equally set on keeping Robin away from her. Roland needed to be close to his father, and the dragon would be best off accompanying the Saviour. Thus, she had rented a mini van and was now more or less comfortably seated behind the wheel tailing the yellow bug.

Her biggest concern was, apart from sitting in a car with Robin, her rather unpredictable body. She was still in need of quite frequent toilet visits, she _might _suffer from those blasted nausea/vomiting spells, and she wasn't sure just how tired she was. The first and the last on that list were most likely to happen. Unless they came across something particularly vile she was quite sure her stomach would not betray her. The total lack of caffeine to fight off the tiredness, on the other hand, might prove a problem. Long, arduous nights were usually accompanied by vast amounts of coffee, or these days, a quick brushing of her teeth and straight to bed. She had gone cold turkey on caffeine as soon as she suspected a pregnancy, and all of a sudden that felt sort of like a poor choice. At least if she didn't think about the negative consequences of the poison.

They had scheduled two stops for food and rest, because there were only two drivers for the two cars, and no matter how set Regina was on getting home as fast as possible, they needed to be sort of rested so as not to be a traffic hazard.

She was deep in her own thoughts when Robin cleared his throat, and she could feel her rage flair up at the sound alone.

"Regina"

"Don't!"  
_Shut up. Can't you understand I don't want to speak to you right now? _If only she could make up her mind about what she really wanted, other than turn back time and destroy her sister before she could mess up this whole relationship that for once in her life might actually be a healthy one.

"But…"  
She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to listen to him. And she certainly didn't want to be in this car with him.

"I need to concentrate on the driving, not your grovelling. Shush."  
_I can't take this. Not now. I really need to concentrate, I don't want to cry, but I'm really not capable of keeping this charade going for much longer if you__'re__ constantly talk__ing__ to me! _

"I'm not grovelling."  
_If you're __not, then you should really shut it. You_ need_ to grovel. At least show me part of that man I thought you were. __I need you to understand what you are doing to me!_ She clenched her jaws, and she could feel the muscles twitch and bulge. They would betray her if he cast a glance her way, but she hoped the thief was too preoccupied in his own little bubble to notice.

"Shut up, or I'll put you in the back seat of the bug with your pregnant wife. I'm still not sure I want to spend the next eight hours sitting next to you, and you setting me off is not helping your cause. _And _I'm not too fond of this urge to scream in front of Roland, whether he's asleep or not."  
She kept her eyes on the road, and her knuckles whitened as she held a firm grip on the wheel. All her instincts told her to do something magnificent and then leave the premises with a gust of superiority. But she couldn't. She needed to get them home, and she didn't have the power to even light a candle before she crossed the town line.

"You know I love you!"

His voice was thin and apologetic, but it was like somebody had set off a red fire cracker behind her eyes, and without further ado, her mouth ran off with her.

"No, I don't! I honestly don't know how you think, how you feel or how you reason! You talk about your honour and how bloody difficult and confusing everything is for you. I get it, I really do, but you need to choose. You have the audacity to yell at me and tell me that you are with Marian now. _That _is, according to you, the current situation. And now you suddenly want me to believe you love me and want to be with me! _You_ are nothing but a confused puppy running from one home to another, or better yet, a stray dog shagging anything that comes along. How_ do_ you think that looks in the light of honour? Maybe this is nothing much for a common thief, but it certainly doesn't look too good for either a queen or a mayor to be one of the bitches. I don't know what you're thinking about me, but I most certainly ain't your bitch!"

The words came running out of her like a constant stream of hot lava, and as the road opened up ahead, she put the pedal to the metal and accelerated just to make a point of her statement.

God, she needed to rein herself in. If she kept talking she would spill everything! She could hear the uncertainty and desperation lace every word, but she was incapable of doing anything about it. He had indeed made her shout in front of Roland, but luckily the boy was a heavy sleeper, and she _did_ turn down the volume before it reached ultimate peeks.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. No matter what I say or do, you won't accept an apology or be happy about what I say."  
He sounded like she had given him a proper round with the cane, but she was still fuming and couldn't care less.

"Just shut up! I don't want to talk to you, and if you say another word, I'm calling up Emma to transfer you to the yellow tin. Your boy stays with me in any case. It's safer and more spacious in the van, and he's not a pain in the ass."

At that he shut his stupid, _yet __beautiful_ she reluctantly thought, face, and started to leaf through a road atlas instead.

She cast a sideways glance at him and breathed deeply in and out as quietly as she possibly could. This would not be an easy ride. She turned on the radio, and they drove on in silence.

They had been driving like that for nearly two hours when Roland woke up and started to whimper incoherently. Regina immediately turned off the radio and checked him in the rear view mirror, and Robin turned around and tried to comfort him back to sleep, but that seemed futile. Among the whimpers Regina could distinguish the word _tummy_ and all of a sudden she went into full alert mode.

_Oh __God, __not in the car. I__t's a rental! __We need to stop immediately!_

Roland had really woken up, and she pulled over as fast as she could. She stopped the car, got out, unbuckled Roland with ease and got him out, before hurrying him to the right side of the car. There she positioned him between her knees and supported his forehead and chest just in time for him to throw up.

Robin had gotten himself tangled up in the seatbelt and wasn't out of the car until Regina had the whole thing under control. He walked up to them as Roland clung to her neck and sobbed and asked for his papa.

Robin took over the crying boy, and Regina was left to think more about herself again, and that spurred a quite severe nausea. She removed herself from the vomit and kept her breathing steady, thinking happy thoughts again. Oh, she would kill for some sweet mints and a bottle of 7Up right now!

She went back to the car to get wet wipes and a bottle of water for Roland. Unfortunately, they hadn't got anything else to relieve him from the foul taste. She should have thought of this being a possibility! Henry had a certain period in his childhood where he was starting to get sick after just five minutes in the car. Thank God that was just a short phase. But they still had six hours to get home, and she was not keen on a rerun. She handed Robin the bottle and the wet wipes and left him to clean up the boy. How far could they be from a gas station? They definitely needed to stock up on snacks and drinks if this was the way the night was going to continue. She needed to call up Emma just to keep them together.

"Emma? We've had a little mishap. Roland got sick, and we need to get to the nearest gas station or anything that might provide snacks and soda. And preferably something against motion sickness."

She leaned against the front of the car and watched the heart warming scene of a father consoling his crying child. He wiped Roland's hands and mouth, and got him to gurgle and rinse before drinking a few sips of the bottle. Then they went for a little stroll along the road to look at the flowers. She sighed and returned her focus to Emma on the phone.

"We passed a gas station some ten minutes ago. I'll find somewhere to turn around, and we'll meet you there."

Finally something was going the right way tonight. After a bump in the road, of course. Nothing could ever be smooth sailing. Not when she was around. But after all, a sick child was the least of her problems.

When Roland had calmed down and was sure he didn't feel sick any more, they got back in the car and drove on. She was driving extremely carefully and didn't risk any sudden moves or clumsily executed curves. Luckily, the gas station was just a mile down the road, and without further trouble, she parked and let out Roland. He ran straight to the benches outside and started to climb them, and Robin followed to keep an eye him. Regina went back to the front seat and shouted;

"I'm just sitting in the car, trying to get a nap before the others come."  
He nodded and waved at her before turning his attention back to Roland.

_Finally! _She sat down in the seat and reclined it. God, it felt good to lay down for a bit.

She must have gone out like a light, because she couldn't remember anything but laying down when she was abruptly woken from her blissful slumber by an incessant rapping on the window. Her head was swimming slightly, and she blinked a couple of times before she was able to focus on the face of the saviour. She sat up and opened the door.

"Regina!" Emma was clearly not in a good mood.

"What did you do to the poor man?"

"What did _I _do? I haven't done anything to him! I tracked him down to save him from my sister is what I did!" She was utterly confused and frankly quite affronted.

"Well, you must have done something else later on, because he is actually sitting on a bench crying. So, what did you do?"

Her insides turned to a cold, mushy matter and almost screamed the first thought that came to mind as she stood up and stared at the Saviour.

"Where is Roland?"

"Don't change the subject!"

"Where is Roland, Miss Swan?! Answer or I will turn you into a tadpole!"  
She was really screaming now. That stupid woman!

"Keep your shirt on, Regina! He's eating ice cream with Lily."

Ice cream? That was a disaster waiting to happen in the up-chuck-department if there ever was one. And Emma just stood there like a moron as if everything she just said was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're telling me to calm down? You have left a five-year old with a dragon in human form equipped with all _your_ potential darkness in addition to her own, and you tell _me _to calm down?"

She ran her hands through her hair and shook her head in disbelief and frustration.

"We've been driving from Storybrooke to New York and are on the same route back, I've got some of the worst news I could possibly receive at the present time, I'm tired, I desperately need a pee, and my emotions are running the whole spectrum and back again. And I've got vomit on my sleeve. Not my own, mind you."

She paused to draw breath and continued in a calmer voice, her hands straightening her dress before she let one arm hang limp and useless by her side and the other one carefully resting on her stomach, suddenly debating whether or not to remove it so it didn't cause any speculations. _Oh well, she knows anyway. And to anybody else, it's not as if this is not a common pose for me._

"Do you know if they sell anything for motion sickness at the gas station? I would rather not have this happening again. Robin got all flustered and tangled up in the seat belt and I did what I always do with a sick child, but I don't know if I can knock back my own retching a second time. You know, I'm not really sick, it just gets triggered very easily. And back to Roland; How long has Robin let him out of his sight?"

Emma looked kind of sympathetic, but rolled her eyes non the less.  
"He was looking after him until we came some ten minutes ago. He left him in my care and went to the toilet."

Regina huffed and turned around before striding over to the table where Roland and Lily were happily and grumpily sitting together. Emma followed and sat down beside Roland.

"Robin is just around the corner. Go talk to him."

Regina sighed.

"Can you take Roland with you and buy him a bottle of 7Up and see if they have motion sickness medication."

"Anything else you need?"

"No, I'll go in myself afterwards. I have a little list of essentials, but I think it's better if I get them myself. We'll get Robin to give him the medication afterwards."

As she rounded the corner, she found him sitting on a bench with his heels on the seat and his face buried in his arms.

"Robin?" She carefully moved up and sat down beside him on the bench. He didn't answer, but kept sitting in the same position she had found him. It was something so incredibly vulnerable about him that she was quite unsure how to approach him. Her basic instinct was to scoop him up in her lap and whisper nonsense of comfort in his ear like she always did with Henry, but this was a grown man; A grown man she had yelled at and sort of told she never wanted to touch, or let touch her, again. Her heart clenched for the umpteenth time that day, and she briefly wondered if that was the default mode of her heart now. Clench, cry, scream.

Without another word she sat down beside him, but she kept a safe distance between them to avoid any accidental graces.

_Oh boy! He's really crying. I don't know how to handle grown men crying! Hell, I don't think I've ever _seen_ a grown man crying unless he's hurt in battle!_

Would he accept comfort from her? She hadn't got a clue but followed her instinct and leaned into him, put her head on his shoulder and whispered softly: "I'm so sorry!"

That actually pulled a loud sob from him. He raised his head from the shelter of his arms, and showed his tear-streaked face, complete with red-rimmed eyes and snot glistening on his upper lip, ans she could feel herself choking up immediately.

"I can't do this, Regina. I don't know what to do. And I can't do it without you. And I can't make it up to you. I don't know what to do! You have nothing be sorry about!" He was rambling, and choked on a hiccough. "I'm so sorry! I don't deserve to be anywhere near you!"

At that she put her arm around him and pulled him closer, and as awkward as scooping up a man considerably larger than herself was, she still managed the feat in a way. His crying made her entire fortification crumble, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that _she_ would not be able to face the coming events alone. She couldn't keep her tears at bay, and they became this tangled ball of tears, hugs and comfort.

She managed to croak; "I can't do it without you either. But I don't know how to do it with you."

In the end, they just sat there, clinging to each other in a mess of tears, pity, self-pity, loathing, self-loathing and an intense fear of the quite messy future. The only positive about this was that they were in fact touching in one of the most intimate ways they ever had, and yet it felt as natural as breathing. The irony. Everything would have been so much simpler if she _just_ loved and craved him unconditionally, _or _detested him. But of course, that was not the case. In fact, she was quite sure she loved and craved him unconditionally, but the whole thing had turned ugly. Very ugly, and she wasn't sure what would make things right again.

When they finally separated and straightened up, they just sat and looked at each other, drying their tears.

"Let's go to the toilet to freshen up again" she suggested. He just nodded, and they got up together and headed for the toilet.

It smelled of urine and toilet fresher in just equal disgusting amounts. She fought back a gag and did her best to keep as far from surfaces as possible. Her face staring back at her from the mirror was just as god awful as suspected, but there was some strange comfort in seeing Robin's face just behind her. She could easily picture him resting his chin on her shoulder while his hands were caressing her stomach.

_Pull yourself together, Regina. No time for dreams now. _

She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second longer than a blink and erased the happy dream as she turned on the tap. Water running, washing away grime and tears and mucus. If only all filth could be eliminated by running water! She took extra care to wash her sleeve with a healthy dash of soap. _No more vomit tonight, and this time I mean it!_

He finished washing his face and went out, and she stayed to go to the toilet. She carefully covered the seat with paper and sat down, hitching her dress all the way up so that she could see her stomach and touch it.

"God, Spud. This is a disaster" she whispered. "I really don't know how to handle this." She traced her abdomen with her right hand. It would soon be visible. Very soon. "I can't really see that you have taken residence down here, but I'm really looking forward to seeing more of you." Oh, if she only could sit in here and just be semi-alone. _Or if Robin..._ No, she couldn't think like that. She finished the toilet visit, got up, washed her hands and checked her make-up again before straightening her dress and walking out.

They hadn't said a word after they stopped crying, but she had the distinct feeling that something had been resolved without words somewhere during those last ten minutes. At least she hoped they would have a peaceful trip until their scheduled stop.

Emma had indeed got soda and medication for Roland and Robin made him take it without any fuss. Regina got to stock up on sweet and savoury snacks, as well as enough 7Up to last a month.

According to Emma, the trip had been nice and quiet in the bug so far, but she had caught up on a slightly uncomfortable sweat and swallow in the back seat, and had to do a bit of repairing on the red head. If it was up to Regina, they would have stuffed her full of the medication Roland was getting, but that was not healthy for pregnant people, apparently. She scoffed and went back to the van.

_She could choke on her vomit for all I care!_


	6. Roadtrip part II

**A/N** I'm really appreciating every pageview, favourite, follow and review. As I've said before, this is mainly me writing down what _I _think makes sense inbetween all of the stuff going on on-screen. This particular road trip has been harder to write than I anticipated, mostly because it's bloody hard to make the transitions believable. And I've had one month off the computer during the holidays. Thanks again to you who actually read this story!

* * *

_I can breathe again! I love their voices! God, I'm crazy. This trip might work after all! Only six hours to go. You can do this Regina._

She cast a glance in the rear view mirror and observed the scene going on between father and son. The boy was not at all keen on sleeping when they got back in the car, but kept talking animatedly about the ice cream and the car trip and the snail he found the ground by the bench. Emma had helped him pick it up before she took him by the hand, and led him to the grassy patch where they carefully had placed it on a dandelion leaf.

Her was heart was fluttering and her throat was comfortably tight as she listened to Robin gradually taking over the talking and Roland quieting down before being lulled back to sleep by his father's steady voice. She could _so_ get used to this, but she was still apprehensive. Robin had not once given any other hints to how he meant to solve this whole mess than the choked sobs of not being able to do this without her.

The mood had lightened significantly since the little incident on the bench and it had indeed cleared the air like a thunderstorm. To her great relief they were actually able to have civil conversation in the front seat. They both seemed to stay clear of sensitive topics, but still managed to get up to date on the goings on in Storybrooke and New York respectively. She halfway wondered how long Adam possibly could stay in Paradise, but decided to keep enjoying the moment for what it was and not ruin what could prove to be a better trip home than she initially feared. The ringing of her phone interrupted their light chat.

"Hello, Swan. Now what?"  
She could feel her irritation rising again, and Robin cast her a quizzical glance with his eyebrows slightly cocked.

"We need to stop again. Preggo in the back seat needs to spend a penny, as she put it, and is probably suffering from motion sickness. Or night sickness or whatever. If we're to survive this trip in this car, we need to tend to her whims." Emma sounded equally parts exasperated and amused.

Regina groaned an "already?" and rolled her eyes at Robin, and he breath out a silent "Oh" and kept looking at her, as if to look for further clues to what the conversation was about.

"Okay. I'll just follow your lead. Everything is calm and okay back here, but I guess we all could need to stretch our legs."

At that, Robin nodded and waited for her to hang up.

"Soo, Zelena in need of a stop?"  
He was sounding rather timid as he spoke, as if the mere mention of her name would break their fragile bubble of peace.

"Yeah. She is apparently both sick and needs to buy something. She obviously doesn't get anything for a penny, but I guess she meant a little something to quell the queasiness."

Robin's abrupt laughter made her frown, and she was about to tell him off as he reined himself in and dried a stray tear.

"What's so funny?"

He was still chuckling, and she felt the indignation burn in her cheeks and her follow-up came out rather harsh.

"What!?"

"Did she need to spend a penny?"

His eyes were practically glittering in the dark, and she was starting to get really riled up. How _dared_ he laugh at her?

"Yes...and?"

"Well, she simply needs to have a wee."

"That makes no sense! You are kidding me now!"

"No, I swear to God. 'To spend a penny' is to have a wee."

"We didn't even _have_ pennies in the Enchanted Forest! How did you two even get that idiom in common?" she scoffed.

"Well, I don't know, do I? Maybe the curse did give us something of this world after all, even if this time around it didn't create new characters for everybody. You are the expert in the magical field, you know."

She shrugged.  
"Some things are even out of my control. This is apparently one of those things."

Not five minutes later the neon lights of a gas station were brightening up the otherwise black night, and they pulled over. Almost as soon as they stopped, she could see Emma jumping out of the bug and letting a slightly desperate Zelena out. She looked quite pale, and disappeared somewhere in the bushes.

"We take it in turn to sit in the car and watch Roland. I'm going out first."  
She was actually quite happy for the unscheduled stop. Her back was starting to act up a bit, and if Zelena really needed to relieve herself this often, she could easily follow her lead without arousing any suspicion.

"Okay." he yawned. "I'm just going to sit here and sleep a bit anyway. Wake me when you return."

She walked up to Emma who was leaning against the bug.

"Zelena is not very happy about the road trip?"

"You could say that again! We need to add a few more pit stops to let Zelena go to the bathroom. That woman must have the smallest bladder in recorded pregnancy history! And I seriously don't know how to drive carefully enough not to trigger her nausea! I would rather not have her throw up in the back seat, and I'm not letting her in the front seat. She can lay down in the back for naps if she wants." She ran her fingers through her hair and yawned before continuing. "God, I knew I had a rough time being pregnant in prison, but I don't think my morning sickness ever got _this_ bad."

Regina just huffed as she tried to stifle a yawn of her own as Emma continued her musings.

"Mind you, nobody ever took me for an 8 hour plus drive, so what do I know."

"Oh well, I'm just glad she hit the bushes rather than the toilet. That way it's quite safe for anybody else to enter after her. I'm next in line! I can't brag about my own capacity at the moment. But I think we all need to bake in some naps into these stops unless we want to risk drowsy drivers."

Emma tried to cover her mouth as a second yawn threatened to dislocate her jaw, and she shook her head and blinked heavily before nodding in agreement.

They decided to get a 15-minute nap before hitting the road again, and scheduled a stop every hour for peeing and napping. This seemed to do the trick, and they arrived at their next big stop, five hours after they left New York, without any more mishaps.

The diner was nice and offered a variety of dishes, and she was almost salivating at the mere thought of a decent meal. Snacks could after all only get you so far.

What to eat? She felt like eating a whole cow, but the thought of a well-done steak was appalling, to say the least, and uncooked, no matter how slightly, was out of the question. To her great surprise, the dish that stood out was the one to the far right in the bottom corner; Fish and chips. She could easily peel away anything too greasy, and the thought of white fish was enticing

All six of them huddled together in a booth and waited for the meals to be served. Lily and Roland were sitting opposite each other closest to the wall, then Emma and Robin, and at the end, Regina and Zelena. Zelena was still a somewhat loose cannon in terms of need of toilet, and Regina was in desperate need of an escape route if things got too heated.

"Ooh, food. Be sure to eat up, Regina. You need the blood sugar." Emma stretched over her to get her own plate before taking Lily's and handing it over to her.

"Not to worry, Miss Swan. There is nothing wrong with my appetite." she said, and tucked in as quickly as possible while remaining graceful enough not to bring shame to her upbringing.

Emma rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath "That has not been the refrain the last nine weeks," before starting her own meal.

Robin eyed the bickering between Emma and Regina with curiosity and looked Regina up and down before pointing his knife at her and not without a certain warmth in his voice uttered

"I think both you and your appetite look healthy, Milady." He winked at her and went happily back to eating, obviously with no further thought of what he said.

She, on the other hand, did not take kindly to the assumption. To the onlookers around the table, it was sort of like witnessing a small explosion, and she slammed her knife and fork to the table for effect.

"Are you implying that I'm _fat_ thief?!"

Her violent outburst made him look up, clearly totally taken aback, and everybody were gawking at her.

"No, I'm not! You look radiant! You look terrific! How did you get "fat" out of what I just said?" He was shrinking back in his seat, yet squared his shoulders to take the full blow of her verbal assault.

"Well, all I can hear is 'fat' coating every syllable pouring out of your mouth!"

"Regina!" Emma was scolding her yet again.

_The nerve of her!_

She was actually sitting on her hands to keep them from flinging the nearest object right at his face – or Emma's. She really wasn't sure who deserved it most. For a split second, she also considered leaving the table in a flashing manner, but decided against it. Her rage was bubbling, but she could keep it in. She had to! The anger spurred that particular annoying headache that seemed to shoot from the shoulders and forward before piercing through her temples.

The quite loud noise from her stomach made her pick up her cutlery again, and she somehow deflated a bit and directed her attention to the meal in front of her. They all breathed out, and for a few minutes the only sound was cutlery on plates, chewing and swallowing.

_Oh God! _

She flinched as the first round of stomach-ache hit her like a mallet. Or like somebody chose to tie a knot on her intestines just beside her hip bone.

_I should have eaten slower. Chewed properly!_

The pain subsided, and she took a couple of sips of water, tuning out. She was too tired to engage in any conversation anyway. The pinches in her stomach started again, but this time the intestine pain teamed up with cramping of virtually all of the muscles in her back and pelvic region. She let out an involuntary groan and kneaded her side with one hand.

"Are you okay, Regina?" His voice was concerned, but she didn't respond at once. Fear, although probably unfounded, was creeping up her spine and she could feel the need to cry building up again.

"Excuse me."

She stood up and flung her napkin at her seat before heading for the toilet. The tears would not be contained much longer, and the cramping was not subsiding.

_This is not good. This is terrible! I can't control myself any longer. _

She was leaning heavily on the sink, letting her head drop between her arms, and from this angle, she had a perfect skewed view of her body. Honestly, she didn't think she had changed all that much. As she previously that night said to Emma, she felt that most of her growing was in the chest area. _Definitely grown a pair, _she thought as she observed her boobs. _Am I really getting bigger without noticing myself? Does he think I'm fat and revolting? _The sensation of being self-conscious about her changing body was totally new to her. She had always cherished the changes the little ones inside brought, and this time had so far been no different. Of _all_ the areas of insecurity she had about herself, her body was the only part that so far never had given her any trouble to speak of. She had always relied on it to do whatever she told it to – apart from keeping children safe, that is. Why this change? How could his words strike so hard? And was this cramping just normal or a sign of everything going down the drain?

She locked herself into one of the cubicles and sat down on the toilet seat. Still no staining, but the fear would not entirely leave her.

_Damned big openings around the cubicle door! I hate cubicles! Whichever moron thought this was a good idea? They certainly never needed privacy!_

She was trying to collect herself as she heard the door to the toilets open. She closed her eyes and tipped her head backwards as she leaned into the cistern. The condensation water was starting to seep through the material of her dress, and she shivered involuntary by the cold sensation just beneath her shoulder blades. She heard someone enter the cubicle next to her.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five._

A grunt and five new rips of paper. Somebody had just let her toilet cover fall either to the ground or into the bowl. A sigh. Pee hitting the porcelain, yet dulled by paper where the stream would normally have hit water.

_Bowl, not floor, then._

She tried to focus on the sounds, the feeling of cold water on her back, the smell of an air freshener that probably was supposed to smell like fresh linen. Anything but the constant cramping. Currently she felt like her entire pelvic floor was invited to the party, and the constant knot of fear was sending electric pulses throughout her body.

_God, is it possible my anus is collapsing?_

The toilet next door flushed, and she heard the door open. Tap turned on. One pump of the soap. Washing. Tap off. Three sheets of paper towel, drying hands, toss the paper tin the bin. And silence.

"Peek-a-boo!"

Her stomach and chest constricted, her eyes snapped up, and she shot up in an upright position and directed her gaze at the direction of the sound. A pair of blue eyes, a flurry of red hair and a manic grin was peeking up at her from beneath the cubicle door.

"What the hell?!"

She almost ripped the toilet roll from the wall to fling it at the intruder, but went for the more subtle version of ripping off a healthy sheet, which she balled and sort of covered herself with.

"Those pads don't match your knickers, love."

Her mortification suddenly matched the petrification of the cramping, and it gave her just the right boost to ignite her anger.

"Pads never match" she snapped and pulled her pants up above her knees and simultaneously tried to inconspicuously pull down her dress so that it covered the most essential parts.

_Damned tight design!_

It just wouldn't cooperate, but ended up in a tight roll just above her pelvis, and unless she wanted to get the skirt between her thighs and the toilet seat (which she didn'twant, thank you very much!) she had nothing to cover her modesty.

"Go away!"

"Nawww! Wittwe Wegina is angwy!"

"Watch yourself, or you won't get your sorry pregnant ass off the floor!"

A new cramp shot through her and she winced and squeezed her thighs together.

"You don't look too chipper, you know."

"GET OUT!" she roared as she shot up from the toilet. In one fluent movement, she had pulled up her underwear and her dress down, before flinging the door to the cubicle wide open. The door hit Zelena square in the face, and caused her to tumble backwards and hit the floor with a surprised cry.

At the same time, Emma came bursting in from outside. They looked like quite the pair; Zelena on the floor with a stray tear on her cheek, wild eyes and left arm clutching her stomach, while trying to push herself off the ground with her right. Regina leaning on the sink trying to straighten her hair and dress and with far more than a few tears streaking her face. She was definitely nailing the panda-look, and Emma was close to mentioning it, but quickly decided against it.

"What are you two doing in here? You are making a racket!"

"She hit me with the door!" snivelled Zelena, finally up on her two feet and embracing herself in a protective manner.

"Serves you right, you nosey witch…" muttered Regina as she turned to the mirror and fixed her running makeup.

"You two are not allowed to be alone together from here on! Out, Zelena. I need to talk to Regina."

Emma was suddenly in sheriff mode, and Regina cocked an eyebrow. This was a first. Zelena dried her tear and glared at Emma before leaving the room.

When she was well out of earshot, Emma turned towards Regina.

"Regina, you need to keep yourself together if you're not going to tell him now. You're ripping at the seams. And not because of boobs or stomach!"

"Brilliantly observed, Swan." she bit off, and continued in a smaller voice that barely covered the slight tremor of constricted crying. "I don't know how to handle the next few hours. I'm teetering on the edge, and I don't know if it's a deep chasm or just black velvet engulfing me when I'm finally dropping. I want to sleep!"

Her bottom lip was trembling slightly, and she bit it and turned around while trying to get her act together.

Emma relaxed a bit and went to wash her hands.

"We both do, I think. But you are in dire need of it. How long has it been since you got a proper sleep?"

"Far too long, that's for sure. Do we trust the others enough to go to sleep both of us? I'm getting slightly cross eyed, and I have no poison to keep me up any more."

Nobody protested when they proposed a 1 hour nap, and not surprisingly, they were all faring far better when they set out for the last part of their road trip. In case they forgot later on, Regina put the magic blocking wristband on Zelena before they left the second gas station, and the sun was climbing high above the wood as they passed the sign that welcomed them back to Storybrooke.

As the two cars pulled up close to the library, she could see the un-Charmings, Guyliner, Henry and Maleficent were striding towards them. She watched Emma get out of the car and give her son, _their_ son, a hug. Her stomach twisted in a fit of jealousy, but she stayed put, just preparing a little speech for Robin in her head.

She decided to stay in the van throughout the whole dragon reunion, and Robin didn't make any moves to get out of the car either. Roland was happily singing to himself in the back seat and had apparently forgotten all about motion sickness and unpleasant memories of cars.

She leaned back in the car seat and carefully banged her head against the head rest a couple of times before speaking.

"I'm taking Zelena to the asylum. There is a perfect padded cell just waiting for her. I don't want any company. And no, I'm not going to harm either her or the meatloaf she is cooking. At least not physically."

"You think that's the best?"  
He didn't protest. He hadn't got a clue what to do, that much was clear. God, they had a lot to work with. Nothing had been resolved. She was screaming on the inside.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at anything or even think about anything, her reply almost just a puff of breath.

"Do you want her roaming the streets?"

"No"

"I didn't think so. She'll be perfectly safe there, both from harm and from sneaking up on us."

Maleficent was happily reunited with her daughter, and it seemed like the right time to make a move. She sighed again and stepped out of the car, heading straight to Henry who gave her a hug she craved more than anything else at the moment.

"Welcome home" he mumbled into her hair. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into his embrace. _This _was all she really needed. Her son wanting to be in her life because he _wanted_, not because of anything else.

"I heard... I'm so sorry about, you know..." he started, and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Thank you, Henry. It's par for the course."

His never failing optimism, no doubt an inheritance from the Charming-clan shone through, and he smiled at her.

"So far. Things can change."

She couldn't get her hope up. It was as if all of fight and hope and anything good was drained from her.

"We'll see."

She hugged him longer than absolutely necessary, and whispered in his ear "I haven't told him about you-know-what yet. Don't spill the beans. Emma figured out on her own somehow." He gave her an extra squeeze and reassured her. "I'm not telling anything until you tell me it's okay." She let him go and smiled at him. "We'll talk later. I need someone sane to talk to in all this mess. I call you when I get home."

He nodded and went off to talk to Robin who was taking Roland out of the car.

Charming was ready to take Zelena to the station, but Regina was not having any of it.

"I'm taking care of her. Family business." With that, she ushered Zelena towards Robin.

He was putting on his annoying apologetic face again, and it rubbed her in all the wrong ways and places.

"Regina," he said, voice matching face, "Things can still work out."

She really wasn't up for this right now, no matter how desperately she wished that what he said was true. And of course that blasted sister couldn't resist butting in.

"Ooh, can they? Wouldn't that be peachy?"

Instead of taking the whole discussion on the sidewalk, she opted for the easy way out and said in an exasperated tone:

"If you think it's that easy, you don't know the story of my life." She shook her head and dragged Zelena with her, leaving him without a second glance.

_Please, Robin, find me later when I'm alone and rested and we can talk! Please!_


	7. Home

"Ah, I mean it. I've no reason to escape."

They were heading down the stairs to the secure unit of the psych ward, and Regina would like nothing more than lock Zelena away and never ever think of her again. She had hardly shut up one second since they left the others, and was evidently thoroughly enjoying taunting her little sister. Or trying to. Some of the barbs hit home, but others were the proverbial water on a duck's back. Was this really how it was like to have a big sister? She didn't know, but the bickering came easy to her, and although she kept quiet for the most part, she did get in a snarky remark or two.

"And with that cuff you won't have the magic to do it either."

The cellar was as gloomy as ever, and the nurse by the desk and the creepy guy mopping the corridor were doing nothing to lift the spirit. They reached their destination, and Regina mock gasped as she opened the door to a padded cell.  
"Oh look. Home."

"Mm... Dank." Zelena stepped in and looked around before turning back to face her.

"Isn't it? I'm glad I thought of it." Every instinct told her to strangle the bitch on the spot, but she put on an acidly tight-lipped smile and continued; "And right upstairs our OB Doctor Whale gives the finest care this side of the fictional Alps. It's a prefect temporary home."

"Yes. This home is temporary. But me being in your life is not. Because this," Zelena looked down and caressed her stomach with both hands and continued in a menacingly taunting whisper; "means forever!"

_God, make her disappear! I hate her!_

"Okay Zelena. You wanna start talking truth? Tell me. Why are you so confident? Tell me what's gonna make you feel safe at night once that baby's born?"

A cold, seething anger was coursing through her, but she was also curious. Zelena's answer was in no way surprising, but yet, it put more wood to the growing bonfire of Regina's hatred.

"The fact that if you kill me, Robin will always know that you _murdered _the mother of his child."

"You underestimate me Zelena. Enjoy your new home."

With a final glare at her sister, she closed the door and took a step back before sealing it with light magic as a double precaution to keep Zelena inside.

Her anger kept running through her body in a cold, slow stream. If this continued, she would become quite dangerous, and she knew it. Right now, she was able to keep her calm, but as always, she was balancing on the edge of something she didn't quite know, and she was still afraid of what the veiled side of the edge held. She needed alone time. If she was going to keep up the play, she needed to recover, to sleep.

The door to 108 Mifflin Street closed with a thud, and she leaned heavily on it before letting out a strained breath. Putting Zelena away was the easy part. All she wanted to do right now was to go to bed and stay there indefinitely. But she couldn't. She promised Henry she would call him when she was back home. She picked up her phone, found "Henry" among her contacts and let her finger hover for a couple of seconds before pressing "call".

Two rings.

"Mom?"

"Yeah"

"Can I come over now?"

"Yes"

"Be right there!"

She hung up, put the phone in her purse and took of the coat. Henry would be there within ten minutes if her estimates were correct. She needed breakfast, and he probably wouldn't say no to a sandwich and some juice if she offered. Humming to herself she headed for the kitchen. The house was blissfully silent, and the only sound was the splashing of the water as she washed her hands.

_Again the water and washing! Why is that so comfortable? _

She made the table and prepared the breakfast for the both of them, and for once in a really, really long time, she was able to empty her brain completely. The sound of her working and her humming was all that filled the house, and she relished the peace.

The click of the front door lock told her he was on his way in, and the "thud-thud" of his shoes haphazardly kicked off his feet almost simultaneously as the door was open made her smile.

"I'm home!" he yelled, and she replied "In the kitchen!"

"I'm having breakfast. Care to join me?"

He slumped down on his chair with a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, I'm starving. We growing people need to eat in order to get big and strong, right?"

She chuckled.

"Right."

The table was almost completely set, but they needed something to drink, and she took out the juice from the fridge and sat down opposite him and started filling the glasses; One glass of orange juice, one apple. They both made their sandwiches in concentrated silence and started their meal.

"How long before you start to really show, and not just in a pudgy way, by the way?"

A chocked cough made him furrow his brow, and rather inelegantly, she spit a mouthful of amber juice back in the glass. The liquid burned the top of her windpipe, and she coughed a couple of times to get rid of the irritating residue.

"Can you see any difference?"

Her voice came out like a croak, and she continued to clear her throat.

_God, that juice smarts! My eyes are leaking!_

He narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down, and made a "stand-up" motion with his hand. She stood up, and he moved his finger in a circle. She turned slowly around before facing him with a questioning look.

"You have changed." He nodded affirmatively. "It's not very noticeable, but I can see it. Don't you?"

She sat down again and nibbled her sandwich and her reply came out rather more sulky than she intended. "No, not really. My clothes seem to have become a bit on the snug side in the chest region, but otherwise, I can't really tell the difference."

She pinched her stomach. "This is just fat. I'm probably not going to show for at least a couple of weeks, if not more. The only time I really got a pronounced bump was a couple of weeks after I had felt movement for the first time." She kept talking, almost more to herself than to Henry, and her hand went from pinching to absentmindedly caressing instead.

"I'm about 12 weeks now, if I've used the tables correctly. The book says foetal movement usually is detectable during week 16 or later. I'm not sure how Enchanted Forest pregnancy months translate into pregnancy weeks here, so I guess week 19 or 20?"

Henry eyed her curiously, as if he waited for more, but she had no intention of delving deeper into the subject and started eating again. They continued to eat in silence for a couple of minutes before Henry stopped chewing and asked "When are you going to tell him?"

She wiped the bread crumbs on her fingers down on her plate and stood up, starting to clean the table of her seating, and Henry shoved the last piece of bread in his mouth and followed suit.

"When the time is right. We need to decide how to coexist. And _if_ we decide to stick together, I need to know it's because of me, and not some moral obligation towards a child. So – after we have decided what we're going to do."

After they had cleaned up the kitchen, they headed for the sofa where she slumped down, and Henry sat down right beside her. He leaned into her and put his ear on her chest and hand on her stomach. She shifted slightly to alleviate the pressure of his surprisingly heavy head on her breast and kept fingering his hair, taking a deep breath before starting to talk again.

"Why are you this cuddly, all of a sudden? It's almost suspicious."

He chuckled but lay still and started a tickling motion with his fingers. "I like it. It's been so long since I heard your voice through your chest."

Her heart swelled, and a warm content flooded her. She simply couldn't contain her wide grin. He was still closing his eyes, and couldn't see what an impact he was making on her, but she suspected he at least had an inkling.

"Mhm. I believe you, but I've got a feeling that's not the whole truth."

He tilted his head to look at her and smiled.

"And I think you like it too."

"Yes, I won't deny that." she murmured.

"You said you needed to talk to someone sane, but I think you need to relax even more. And so far, the most relaxed I ever see you is when we cuddle." His head fell back in its previous position as he concluded; "It's a win-win!"

They just sat there in silence for a while before Henry mumbled;  
"I like your pouch. You're even better to cuddle now."

She closed her eyes and sniffed the top of his head, relishing the peace, closeness and warmth he provided, and for a fleeting moment she felt the stab of fear of dying. It came out of nowhere, but it made her think about what her precious son would do if she suddenly disappeared from his life. Right now, she was quite certain he actually found her irreplaceable. The thought was outright terrifying. On instinct, she started humming again, mostly to calm herself, but in turn she could feel him heave a deep sigh and creep even closer.  
_Oh God, I love you so much __it hurts__! I can't ever tell you how much, __but I hope you will know some day__. You are more precious to me than words can describe, and I'm so, so lucky to be your mother. My dearest little boy._

* * *

_Did someone hit the gong?_

She shot up from her slumped position on the sofa, a throw thudding to the floor. Her eyes were full of sand, her mouth dry, and her chin moist with drool. She wiped her mouth and dried her hand on her skirt. That dress was going to get a proper wash as soon as possible. She sniffed under her arms and down her cleavage, and scrunched her face in disgust.

Where was Henry? How long had she been out? Was someone at the door?

The door hammer immediately answered the last question, and she stood up. Groaning she tried to stand up straight, but her lumbar region was stiff as a board, and she knew her gait would not be of the sashaying kind. The first few steps were more of a goose-like waddle, but as she reached the mirror in the hall to check her visage, the back was reasonably loosened again.

She opened the door and God! He had come! She hadn't called, and yet he really came! That alone was enough to make her chest constrict. His posture and face was that of a crawling man, and it certainly helped him worming his way back to her, she thought.

"We need to talk. Are you alone?"

"I don't think so. Henry was here," She craned her neck to check the stairs for a second before facing him again. "but I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, I was alone in the living room. He's probably upstairs in his room."

Taking a step back, she beckoned him inside, and he gave her a slight bow as he stepped over the threshold.

"Can we talk, even if he is here?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She lead him into the kitchen, and sent an angry thought to whatever deity that had blessed her with uncooperative muscles. In an attempt to relieve the pain that had started to shoot down her butt and thighs, she kept kneading the small of her back with her thumbs. And damn if the interior muscles of the hip didn't choose the right time to throw a party! She needed to sit down in a short while if this was not blowing over.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"Yes, please. Black and strong as your knights, if that's all right." he said as he warily rubbed his eyes and forehead with his left hand. She snorted and started the brewing of the dark brown liquid. The smell of freshly grained coffee beans _almost_ made her take a bean and suck on it, but she snapped out of it and went to get herself a glass of water instead. It was a rotten substitute, but the only other option that was remotely tempting.

"Your back is bothering you?"

His voice was soft and inquisitive.

_Are you buttering me up, or are you actually caring? Please don't butter me up!_

"It is punishing me for a road trip far longer than normal and falling asleep on the couch." she growled and rolled her eyes while she found a cup for him and put on the bench beside the coffee maker.

"Do you want a back rub? I'm actually quite capable."

She nodded. "Strictly speaking, yes. At the moment a back rub sounds more appropriate than abstinence, to be frank."

He got off the chair and walked towards her, motioning for her to lean over the counter. She did so with a groan, and she could feel him inch in on her. Suddenly all the hairs on her body and head stood on end. Sparks flew up her spine as his hands grabbed hold of her back, and she leaned further down on the counter. In a fleeting moment, she wondered how that exact same spark had the power to make her feel in heaven _or_ hell, like it was balancing on a thin line where the only thing deciding the outcome of the feeling was the setting.

_It's insane that something can be so good that it hurts, but maybe that's the beauty of it._

God, those hands were too good for living! He found a knot and kneaded for a few seconds and she let out a strangled grunt just before she felt her right knee give way. Instinctively, he put his left arm around her waist for support, and his hand splayed right over her lower abdomen while the right hand continued its ministrations on her back. She stiffened, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was close to the only thing that kept her in an upright position, she would have bolted. But she stayed put.

"Does it hurt too badly? Did I hurt you?" He let go of the pressure as soon as she went rigid, but she shook her head. "Continue, please. It just took me by surprise. It's _so _painful, but oh, so good!"

Relaxing, he shifted his supporting grip to his right arm while kneading the left side of her spine, her left leg going limp this time.

"Oh God!" she grunted, all thoughts of him detecting anything suspicious deleted from her mind. At the same time a high pitched and mortified "Oh fuck, MOM! In the kitchen?" sounded from the door to the living room. This time she actually bolted upright, and she would have smashed her head into Robin's chin if he hadn't been equally startled and had jumped away from her. He pivoted towards the sound with his hands good and well tangled in his hair, as if to say he was completely innocent in whatever atrocity was going on. Regina turned on her heel to see her son beet red behind his hands, one over his eyes, the other one clamped over his mouth.

She was too perplexed to even consider being embarrassed, and in a no-nonsense-tone said; "Open your eyes and wash your mouth, young man! How _did_ your mind and mouth get so dirty?"

Reluctantly he removed his hands and looked sheepishly at his mother, still red up to the roots of his hair.

"What did you do if not..."

She let a hand fly up and rub her forehead, while the other one was comfortably resting on her stomach.  
"Robin gave me a back rub because my lumbago was particularly vile. Christ, what have I ever done that made you think..."

The hand that was rubbing her forehead continued its ministrations upwards and scratched a couple of times at her scalp before she ran it through her hair and let it fall to her side. Robin just leaned on the counter and sniggered.

"Nothing," Henry mumbled and traced invisible patterns on the floor with his foot. "I just, you know. It looked and sounded really suspicious, and angry make up sex _is _kind of a thing in all movies and tv shows."

Regina huffed indignantly. "Well, that's not my kind of make up, believe you me. And certainly not with my son roaming the vicinities. I hope I'm a bit more refined than that."

"Yeah, whatever. I think I'll go to Emma's and leave you to to 'talk' in peace"

"Enough with the insinuations!" She was getting a bit flustered. How could he _really_ think she would jump Robin at the first possible time?

Speaking of the sun – he moved towards her and put a hand on her hip and placed himself behind her. She leaned into his touched and let out a soft sigh. It was too easy. It shouldn't be so easy to fall back into old routines. They needed some sort of deal.

Henry went to the door and picked up his jacket.

"See you guys later. And behave!"

He slammed the door shut, and Robin and Regina both let out a strangled giggle.

"In a way it's a bit disappointing to scar him without doing anything remotely improper." Regina said as she brushed away a stray hair from her eyes.

"Yeah, that was far from the worst we were likely to ever do."

They stepped away from each other, and Regina sat down again, while Robin leaned on the kitchen table and looked down at her.

"How do we solve this mess we have landed ourselves in?" he asked, shaking his head.

The question set her off like a firecracker, and she couldn't contain herself.

"We? I've been trying to solve this whole thing ever since Marian got frozen the first time! And you go ahead and move on without a second thought!" Her voice cracked.

_Oh God, keep yourself together now! Where's that fighting spirit? Get your anger out girl, not that blubbering mess of an idiot!_

"I'm so sorry. But as I said, you agreed!"

"I told you to cross the line with her, not fucking breed her! And on the top of everything, you go ahead and choose to stay with her just because you knocked her up. My sister!"

He looked as if she had slapped him around the head with a frying pan, but she continued without mercy.

"I know this isn't easy for you, but God Robin, this isn't my idea of an ideal situation either." She drew a deep breath, and he just stood there and took it all in.

"I know I said I can't be without you, and that is a fact, whether I like it or not. But I don't need to be your lover or hoe or wife or anything." _Wow, Regina. Keep yourself together now! You said you had it under control. Prove it!_

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly before looking at him. "I'm sorry. But I need to be able to talk to you, to have you in my life. In the end, you are my soul mate, and I am physically ill when you're not around."

_Well, that might be because of something else entirely, but._

Not knowing where to look, he lowered himself down on a chair to be on her level. He put his head in his hands, and after a couple of seconds he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Yes, I know. I shouldn't have yelled at you. But I really thought you had lost your mind. And with you threatening my wife, and in turn my baby... I sort of lost it." He shook his head and looked down at their feet.

"But that part remain; I don't want any harm to come to my unborn child. He or she is not at fault for this, and no matter if I was tricked and used in a way I would rather not relive in my mind, I will never ever not want a child of mine. I don't expect you to understand or forgive, but that's my main concern other than you. Believe me, you are so high on my list of priority I don't think you even know."

She scoffed, not at all convinced.

"I don't need your words of comfort, and I certainly don't want to be second best. You are full of contradictions, and for once in my life I want something stable and good when it comes to my love life. We need some ground rules if this is going to work."

He nodded.

"Okay. Got one to start with?"

"I have _very_ mixed feelings about you at the moment, and you need to back off if it's getting too weird. First rule – no means absolute and definite NO until I revoke it."

"Yes, that should be easy, and frankly, quite self-explanatory. I think I want to add that to my own list too."

"We are not in a relationship, but we might be in foreseeable future if everything works out. We'll see."

"I want to be a part of my child's life."

_God, I want that too! But most of all, I want your child to not have a sibling born around the same time by my bloody sister._

"I understand. But I really don't want you to be near my sister!" She didn't look at him.

"You know, I don't want that either. If it was not for the fact that she's the mother of my child, I wouldn't want to see her again for as long as I live!" he said in a small voice as he zoomed in on a dent in the table, not wanting to look at her.

"Oh God, Robin!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice, and she tentatively put a hand on his knee, trying to catch his gaze, but he kept avoiding it. She was almost afraid he would shun away from the touch, to get away from physical contact, but he made no move. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think! I should have thought about..." her voice disappeared into nothingness.

"Please, Regina. Don't leave me alone."

It was a plea.

"I won't. I promise. But don't you dare leave me again, Robin of Locksley, or I will fry your sorry ass into oblivion."

He raised his head, and she could see the tears streaking his face. She leaned forward and carefully wiped them away with her thumbs, before she bowed her head and let their foreheads touch. They stayed like that for a few seconds before she tipped her head up and kissed his nose.

"We'll need time, and we need to talk. This isn't going to be easy, but for the time being, I think it's the right thing to do."

He nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"I love you, Regina. I love you so bloody much!"

"Yeah, I know" she admitted. "I love you too. That's what makes this so much more complicated. I don't think soulmates are supposed to be separated when they first have met each other. At least not the two of us."

He nodded again and reached out a hand. She took it, and he dragged her down on his lap. His hands sneaked around her waist, and he looked at her as if to ask for permission before softly putting his ear to her chest. All restraint was gone for the moment, and she allowed herself this moment of closeness and feeling of things being right. Who was she to deny herself what she had craved for the better part of nine weeks? His head rose and fell with her steady breath, and the more she thought about the implications he had let slip, the hotter her anger coursed through her veins. Nobody hurts her loved ones! This particular, slow, white anger that could melt steel was traditionally reserved for matters concerning Henry, but her heart overflowed with disgust of what Zelena had actually done to him. Her mind started to whirr again, and suddenly an idea struck.

She hugged him a bit tighter and put a kiss to his temple before getting up from his lap.

"Stay here. I just remembered I have some business to attend to."

He let go of her, but said nothing.

She needed to find the author, and quickly!

* * *

A/N: This chapter is second to last. This story was supposed to be finished before the première of season 5 aired, but as you see, that's not the case. This will be a strictly season 4 story. Thanks again for reviews, favourites and followers. Much appreciated!


	8. Operation Mongoose?

**A/N**  
I lied. This isn't the last chapter. I clearly need more words to get to the end. What I suspect is the last chapter is about 80 % finished, and I'm working on it, so I really don't think it will take another five months to get it out. Thanks again for your patience, views, favourites, follows and comments. No matter how much I write for myself, I also write for you, and it is satisfying beyond words that anybody actually takes the time to read this.

* * *

She was walking quickly in the direction of the pawn shop.

_It's a great idea! The author has to have the answer. Alternatively, be the answer. _If_ he indeed can write anything and make it true, then I just have to find him and make him…_

Her thoughts halted. _What_ would she make him write? Zelena out of the picture, that's for sure, but other than that? She would have to think about that.

She could have poofed directly to her destination, but the need to cool down and gather her thoughts won out. Nothing made her more collected than a brisk walk, and this time was no different. Although the thoughts never seemed to sort themselves out, the rhythmic clicking of her heels on the pavement worked as some kind of war drum. The beat of every step in combination with her seething anger and indignation brought out the cold, determined warrior queen, and boy did she like it! Finally, she was feeling like herself again, and she was perfectly on top of her game as the bell above the door announced her entrance.

The author was standing by the counter, apparently looking through some books, and he practically jumped at the sound and with a poorly prepared and executed soutenu, he had turned to face her.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was no less intimidated than his demeanour, and she had a good few replies at the front of her mind, but before she had the time to pick a particularly acrid one, Gold came bursting through the veil that separated the shop from the back room. He was definitely looking worse for wear. What the hell had happened to him?

"What do you want?" he wheezed as he steadied himself to the cabinet by the wall, his left hand clutching at his chest.

"_God, you look awful! I'm just going to stand here and enjoy your pain I think, Dearie!" _

The words flicked like a subtitle before her eyes, but her mouth, on the other hand, spit out the more practical reply; "I want the author. Finding him was my idea before you _stole_ it!"

He didn't reply, but kept panting and swallowing, and her narrow eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight.

"What's wrong with you? You look terrible."

"Nothing, I'm fine."

_Yeah, sure, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you, you foul, heartless..._

That was it! She could feel the grin spreading on her face.

"Oh, it's your heart, isn't it?" A sick form of glee was bubbling in her chest, and for all she tried, she couldn't contain her smirk. "It's finally happening."

"Yeah, it's dying. Bad news for you and me both." he sneered.

The glee seeped out of her again, and she even felt a twinge of care for him.

"You said it would kill your ability to love. You didn't say that…" She halted for a moment, but certainly, that could not be the case. She wouldn't believe it. He was a cockroach, and just like those pesky little insects, Ruplestiltskin would surely survive an atom war.

"The Dark One can't die. Not like that."

"No, but Rumplestiltskin can. A friendly warning; you don't want to face the Dark One when there's no one else at home, so I suggest you don't antagonise me"

Somehow she wasn't intimidated by this.

"Oh, but it doesn't really matter. By definition, when I get my happy ending, I'll be, guess what? Happy! So I don't really care what you'll be up to."

"You're just being short-sighted." His hand was fumbling around in his inner pocket, before taking out and presenting the author's quill. "Look, I have the quill. You and I can work together. We could figure out a way to find that ink."

She walked towards him, still apprehensive, but with a new determination.

"Yes, you look like you're up for some real collaboration!" With a smile, she grabbed the quill and moved back towards the author.

"Thank you! I'll figure out the ink on my own."

"No!" His protest was feeble, but clear – and she just didn't care.

"Goodbye. Dearie." She took a firm hold of the author's arm and in a cloud of purple smoke, they where transported to the safety of her vault.

_Oh God! That's different! _

She hadn't really been doing much poofing ever since Robin left town. It simply hadn't been necessary. In fact, even her standard magic was a bit off-kilter. It felt like her powers had shifted somehow, as if her main source was somewhere else than it used to be, and the effort to channel the magic while being teleported, left her slightly off balance. Her head felt like she had been taking a few spins on an office chair just to see the world swivel, and concluded that motion sickness was a probability in any means of transportation, apart from walking. To get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, she started to pace before stopping and turning towards the author.

"So, if I have this straight; you thought Emma would go dark, and she didn't, so the whole operation is dead."

"Right. The energy of her darkest potential has to charge the ink."

"Okay, let's think." She started to pace again, and he started talking.

"It's a shame, I mean, writing a happy ending for the Evil Queen… Well, you...you've always been a favourite of mine. Very clear goals plus a totally damaged personality, with a self-destructive streak; a recipe for compelling. Of all the characters I've written about, you really do get screwed over the most."

Her pacing halted, and squinting she sneered at him.

"I'm well aware!"

He put on one of the least trustworthy smiles she had ever seen and continued.

"By the way, I was only working with Rumplestiltskin because he would be able to protect me, so, you can trust me."

To her great dismay, his words had softened her, and the possibilities felt endless. If she only was smart about it. The writing would have to be flawless. If not, she would surely be in deeper shit than she was initially.

"And you can really do as you say?"

He nodded affirmatively, and she reached for her pocket to take out the folded and taped page XXIII. Carefully, she unfolded it and showed him

"Take a look at this. This page, it says my happy ending is possible, doesn't it? I mean, it has to exist for a reason!"

She was grasping for straws, and she knew it. That damned desperation was never far from the surface. The surprised look on the author's face as he saw the drawing took _her_ by surprise, though.

"Wow! I wrote this."

Her heart sunk like a brick, and she cast a glance down at the page. So he was not the answer after all.

"I mean, the story with that drawing in it, from my… Well, a little experimental writing I did, for another book that I never got the chance to write. Where did you get this?"

He sounded genuinely interested, but the excess energy and optimism she had accumulated up until then had evaporated into thin air, and her reply was less than cheerful.

"It just turned up one day, in Robin's things."

"I don't know how that happened, but yeah, it suggests that something is looking out for you."

He, on the other hand, sounded like a child who at last was allowed to play with his favourite toy. Or like a creepy kid watching the futile flight of the bumblebee he just had pierced with a couple of pins. She shuddered internally, but kept her exterior rather unfazed.

"Something?" Her voice broke a little with exasperation. "What, could you be more vague?"

"You know as well as I, there are forces greater than all of us, but no matter how you got that, gosh, I'm a fan and I'd be happy to write whatever you want. If you only had the ink."

"Oh, I already figured that part out. I know exactly where to find it."

She had been thinking a bit, even as he kept talking. The energy of Emma's darkest potential… was _not_ in Emma, but in the dragon! God, this was too easy! And without even really hurting anybody. A win-win situation, so to speak.

"I know how to get the ink. Meet me outside the hospital in an hour, and we'll make a new chapter."

They went outside, and she sealed the vault again. The author skulked off to wherever he wanted, and she was quite pleased to be rid of him for a while. He was really making her uncomfortable!

Next question was; where do you find a petulant 30-year-old dragon in no hurry to make up with mummy-dearest?

Regina had no time to waste, and poofed downtown, just to browse the streets. This time around, she was more prepared for the new sensation, and the few adjustments she had taken had paid off. A few seconds with closed eyes, and she was ready to go. While looking for Lily, she went through the conversation with the author over and over again. _He_ had written the extra page, and it had never happened, because he never got to write that other book he apparently wanted to write. In fact, he hadn't written or tweaked _anything _she had experienced so far in her life. At least nothing directly. She halted for a second and lifted her eyes to the sky. No matter how horrid and unfair she might think her life had been, the Author had not put any obstacles in her way. They were the same as always; her mother, Snow White, king Leopold, Rumplestiltskin, _herself._ If it was not an altogether good thing that she actually had a say in her life, it certainly didn't feel so bad that nobody in particular was out to get her. She was queen, mayor, mother, in charge. Both in the world and in her own life! This new revelation made breathing easier, and she was feeling quite good about most things as she spotted the dragon outside the pharmacy.

She was sitting in the shed waiting for the bus. Typical run-away. Too bad the bus service out of town was…infrequent.

It was surprising easy to get her to talk, even though she was emanating a very teenage-like "get-out-of-my-face-you-fat-assed-grown-up-bitch-I-have-no-intention-of-speaking-to"-attitude. Nicking the blood from her palm went smooth as hot knife in butter, and quite satisfied with her work, Regina poofed to the hospital. She cast a glance at her watch. Forty minutes early. She could sing! This was so easy! And she had time to ponder _how_ to get rid of the Zelena-plus problem.

She found a sofa near the entrance and drifted off in her thoughts. After some time, her stomach gave off a high-pitched squeal, and she suddenly felt extremely hungry, on the verge of nausea. Quickly she rummaged through her pockets for some money, and to her great relief, she found enough to get a 7Up and a granola bar at the kiosk. She was munching away and getting the blood sugar up to par as the author came through the automatic doors.

"Where to next, Your Majesty?" he simpered, and it sent unpleasant shivers down her spine. Her initial enthusiasm about her plan was fading, as was her trust in the creepy man, but she stood up and lead him towards the basement.

"We're paying my sister a visit, just to let her know exactly what I'm going to do to her. Or rather, what I'm making _you_ do to her."

"Oh, you're too good, Your Majesty! It's my greatest pleasure to be of help!"

As they were descending the stairs, she toyed with the idea of getting rid of the author himself, but quickly dismissed of the thought. He needed to be taken care of in another way. Exactly how, she didn't know.

She was bringing forth her confidence as she lifted the spell on her sister's cell, and as she opened the door and entered, she was back in her most beloved character.

Zelena sat in the corner of her bunk, clearly wondering who was coming to visit.

"Hello Zelena."

"Oh visitors! I'll put the kettle on."

_Sarcasm sounds so much nicer and polite in an English accent, _Regina mused. Out loud she said; "I've got the author, and I've got the ink." She put her hand on his shoulder and put on her most menacing, yet accommodating, voice. "I want you to witness the moment he writes me my heart's desire."

Zelena sat a bit straighter, and Regina continued in the same menacing tone, but without the pretence. "See, this is my town, and this is my story. You've just been a supporting player this whole time."

Zelena gave a low chuckle. "Yeah, you see, I'm not here to support you. I'm here to replace you. Out with the old and in with the new." She flicked her hair a bit and Regina assumed she really revelled in her so-called wickedness. In reality, it was nothing more than taunt, and an annoying one at that.

"Really? We'll see about that."

"Wait." She suddenly sounded timid, and rose from her backward slumped position in the corner to get up on her knees before she was standing up and as she closed her cardigan and protectively crossed her arms in front of her. "What exactly is he going to write?"

Regina felt the glee come back to her, and crossed her arms and legs and leaned comfortably back against the padded wall.

"Oh, I've given that a lot of thought. There are so many good options. But I think that after much deliberation I've come up with a perfect ending for you. _Sis_."

This spurred Zelena again.

"You're just mad because I've got with Robin Hood what you _always _wanted. A child."

"No, I've already have a child. Henry."

_How much does she know? Probably about the potion, but the other…_

Zelena gave a little huff, and Regina walked a step closer.

"No, what I'm mad about is you trying to come between us. About you trying to hurt _me_. Now I'm going to see to that you can never hurt anyone else again. Our author here is going to write you out of our story. For ever."

The look on Zelena's face was constantly changing as she took in the words. She seemed incredulous that Regina even thought about getting rid of her.

"Sorry sis, I think you're bluffing. You'd never take away Robin's baby."

"That's not how I look at it." It really was not. She could perfectly imagine a world without sisters and sister's damned offspring, and it was glorious! It was not without a certain satisfaction she saw the confident smirk wiped off Zelena's face, and Regina was actually starting to enjoy this little torment of hers.

"You see, as far as everybody will be concerned, including me, it'll be as though," she paused for effect, "you never existed."

The same uncertainty and anxiety she had felt the day before, when she feared the author had cancelled her own pregnancy, was written all over her sister's face, and in fact, her whole body screamed it too. If she had ever hoped that the whole pregnancy thing was a scam on Zelena's part, her body language effectively ruled that option out. Regina certainly didn't possess the Saviour's knack of looking through lies, but this instinctive urge to protect an unborn life was too obvious and familiar to ignore as a fib.

"Wait, can he do that? Just change all of your memories?"

Regina glanced over to the author to get him to answer Zelena.

"Absolutely. The pen is mightier than the, well, everything."

She chuckled in a satisfied way as Zelena let out a nervous laugh and lifted a hand as if to wipe her brow, but it only touched the bridge of her nose before she let it fall to her side again. Kind of lost for words as her new reality, or rather lack thereof, dawned on her.

"Wow!" she sounded like she most of all wanted to cry, but still was far from doing so, "I never knew our mother, but I imagine I'm getting to know her right now."

"Is that so?"

"She tossed me in a basket, sent me to Oz. She gave up a baby, without even blinking an eye. And look at you now. You are exactly like her!"

Come to think of it, she probably wasn't really far from bursting into tears as she spat out the last exclamation. Being compared to Cora hurt more than it should have. She was nothing like their mother, and yet...

"Well, the ink is drying, so, what do you want me to do?" He was sounding impatient and annoyed.

"Nothing."

Zelena looked down and her shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit.

"You didn't know our mother Zelena, but I did. And yet we both suffered. She hurt you and she hurt me too. But our own worst enemy isn't her, or each other. It's ourselves."

"Regina!" Robin came hastening around the corner and entered the room and sounded a bit winded. What the hell was he doing here? Hadn't she said she had business to take care of?

"Is everything all right? I've been looking all over for you."

"Everything is fine." Yes, everything _was_ fine, at last. Most of all because she had somehow come to the conclusion that she mattered. "I'm so tired of standing in the way of my own happiness." She shook her head a bit. "And I'm not going to do it any more."

"Naaw, another woman defining her happy ending as relative to the love of a man. Ah, sad, really."

"Oh, don't get it wrong Greenie. Robin isn't my happy ending. My happy ending is finally feeling at home in the world. Robin's just a part of that world. A world that you're gonna be forced to watch from a distance, with the most restricted visitation rights in history. See you at the next ultrasound."

The snide remark just rolled off her tongue before she had even thought it through, but the words certainly slapped the bitch right where it hurt the most! Zelena was unable to conceal the effect of the blow, and was positively on the verge of crying. Regina's primary goal, to hurt Zelena, was achieved. Her secondary goal was to protect Robin. Or was it the other way around? She really didn't know any more. Taking in another baby? Really? They hadn't talked about it at all. This was one crazy spur of the moment. Robin's only reaction was to grip her hand a little tighter, but staying silent, letting her do the talking. This was her turf. A bit shaky and muddy, but still hers.

The author cleared his throat.

"So, you don't want me writing anything?"

She turned away from Robin and looked at him.

"No. I already have everything I need." With that, she turned back to Robin and leaned forward to capture his lips with hers.

"Well, I don't."

The author disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke as he tore out the page on which he just had written.

"Regina!"

"What the…?"

She picked up the torn out page and groaned.

"He wrote himself back to Gold, and he's got the ink. I don't know what the hell he is up to, but it's certainly not good for me!"

"Oooh, what's he going to do, little sis?"

"You shut your mouth. We're going to righten this mess," She ushered Robin out while constantly having an eye on Zelena,"and you will be here, waiting it out."

With that, she closed the cell door, and yet again sealed it with magic.

"What are you doing, love?"

She ignored the pet name and answered as she drew up her phone.

"I'm sending an sms to the others to meet us in the secret room in the apprentice's house. Maybe we'll find a clue there. I can't come up with anything else."

Taking him by the hand, she engulfed them in her purple smoke and they landed with a thud in the hidden library in the Apprentice's house.

"God, that's one uncomfortable way of transportation" Robin groaned as he tried to regain his footing.

"It takes a bit of getting used to, I must admit."

"Did you mean what you said to Zelena?"

"Did I mean what?"

"Well, everything. If I really am a part of your happy ending, for one."

"Let's just say that within the last few hours, my nihilistic view has shifted somehow. And you…you are my man. I can't explain it any other way, and I won't. And no green witch can change that. As long as I know I am your woman, we'll figure out the rest."

"And the baby"

Yes, the baby. She hadn't thought that through, that was certain. Depending on the progression of both pregnancies and deliveries, Regina would either be heavily pregnant and taking care of a newborn, _or_ she would be in the joyous post-partum haze having _two_ newborns to feed, change and lull to sleep. No. She was all talk and no thought. Her reasoning had been to keep Zelena away from Robin, to let Robin keep his baby, and to let Zelena get a taste of her own medicine.

"I didn't think. It just rolled off my tongue."

"But is it true?"

"I think so. But it still makes me want to cry."

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.

"You are not alone in that. You have no idea how I wish..."

"Wishes are worth nothing now," she interrupted. "We have a real situation, and have to handle it like adults."

She had no intention of finding out what he wished. It was probably one out of two; Wishing Regina was the one pregnant, or that Zelena hadn't got pregnant at all.

"We need to concentrate..."

What they needed to concentrate on never left her lips, because that was the moment the league of un-Charmings came bursting through the doors with Henry in tow.

The next hour was spent looking through empty book after empty book, and her temper and patience was wearing thin. She threw yet another empty tome to the floor and let out a frustrated groan. This was leading absolutely nowhere!

Even when August showed up and told them what the Apprentice looked like, Hook knew where to find him and Blue got him out of the hat, they were no closer to a solution. All they could hope for was to get hold of the author and the page with the door and lock him safely back in the book.

They split up, and Regina, Emma and the Apprentice ran towards the pawnshop to get their mittens on Gold and the author, while Henry, the Charmings and Hook ran to the loft to get the page.

She hoped to God they were not to late. They were still here, weren't they?


	9. Revelation

_This is not dying. I'm not dead!_

She was still laying down, but the stabbing pain was gone. Her eyes were tightly closed, but the ground felt different, not at all like dirt and grass. The birds were still chirping, but she could hear the occasional screech of a gull. Was she really in Storybrooke? It certainly didn't smell like the forest. Slowly, she turned her head and opened her eyes, just to see the face that had brightened her life for the past thirteen years.

"Henry" she breathed before getting up in a hurry. Her hands were briefly checking her torso for damage, and she enveloped her son in a crushing hug.

"You did it!"

"No Mom, _we_ did!"

She couldn't believe it. The memories of living like a bandit in the Enchanted Forest, on constant run from the evil queen Snow White and her henchmen… And Robin being married to Zelena. The mere thought made her insides churn. Her train of thoughts was abruptly halted when Robin came running towards her from around the corner. He threw himself at her, hardly halting at all before he crashed into a hug that nearly threw her off balance. _Her _Robin. Not Zelena's. She melted into his embrace, and they only let up to include Henry when he returned to them after checking on Emma, who just woke up on the road beside them.

When they untangled themselves, her hand went back to carefully check her stomach, and to her great relief and joy, she felt distinctly pregnant again.

_God, Spud. Are you all right in there? I can't take it if I hurt you. Please, be okay!_

"I'm going home!" she sighed. "This dress is not staying on one second longer than necessary." Her hand sought out Robin's, and their fingers entwined. "Are you coming with us?"

He nodded. "I'll get Roland and then we're coming over." He gave her another hug and kissed her temple before they left in separate directions.

"I _knew_ you were meant for each other!" Henry was practically beaming beside her, and she smiled at him.

"I think you might be right. But that doesn't mean that everything is resolved."

"You think Zelena still is pregnant?"

"Did you write it out of the story?"

"No, I just undid what Isaac had done."

"Then yes, I believe she is."

They walked in silence side by side towards Mifflin Street, and she still couldn't fathom that she was the mother of the new author. She could burst with pride. And she was sure he was perfect for the job.

"Is it okay if I go to your office to think a bit? It's quite a lot to take in," he twirled the quill between his fingers "being the new author and all..."

"Sure. The keys are at home."

When they reached the front door, she locked them in. _Home, _she thought. _I'm home, and everything is going to be all right. _She wasn't sure she believed that, but she needed to at least try to believe. What else was there to do?

The keys to her office hang on the wall, and she passed them to Henry.

"Take your time. I'm going to shed these garments and have a shower, and when you return, I'll make you a cup of cocoa."

"Thanks Mom!"

He planted a kiss on her cheek before slamming the door shut.

She sat down on the stairs in the main hall and quickly unzipped her boots. A sigh left her as she pulled them off, feet slightly throbbing. Boots and coat were put were they were supposed to be, and she headed for the bathroom. Nothing could keep her away from a shower right now!

She could feel the grime of New York, vomit and stale sweat fall off her in the steamy hot shower. It was heavenly!

Soft and distinctly pink from the shower, she yet again found herself in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Carefully, she weighed her boobs in her hands. As she previously had stated, they were noticeably bigger and fuller than usual. Her stomach, on the other hand, had deflated some time ago, and was more or less back to normal. Nevertheless, Henry had _said _he could see the difference. He even called her pudgy! The nerve of him! She turned to stand in profile, felt her stomach from bottom to top, and then she blew it up as far as she could, and carefully caressed the fake bump. Then she sucked in her guts, just to see if there was any difference at all. And maybe, just maybe, she could see something. Up until now, she hadn't had the guts to keep track of potential growth, just because she was certain it would all go down the drain. _Quite literary, _she added with a shudder. On the other hand, this one had taken residence in a hostile environment that was supposed to keep everybody out, no exception. And this exceptional little one had defied all odds. That alone must count for something. Either this was a particularly strong one, or her uterus was being more benign than it had ever been. _For now_, she hastened to add. She was walking into dangerous territory when she let herself believe it would last. Very dangerous indeed.

"Your daddy and brother Roland are coming over now. I'm going to tell Daddy about you." Her words rang loudly in the silent room. "I don't know how, though."

She put on one of her new, highly comfortable, bras, a grey, semi tight sweater and black yoga pants with a v-shaped waistband.

"I'm so nervous, but it needs to be done. For all of us. And for Henry. He's getting impatient."

To top it off, she put on a pair of fluffy grey socks before she headed downstairs, refreshed, oddly satisfied and with a nervous knot in her stomach. Robin and Roland would show up in minutes, she suspected, and she put the kettle on.

* * *

Roland had been happy to run up to the room she had prepared for him, and he was having a blast with a handful of Henry's old toys. She had supplied him with a big glass of milk and a plate of cookies, and she suspected that would keep him busy for the next hour or so. Meanwhile, she and Robin were in the kitchen preparing tea.

"What kind of monstrosity are you concocting? It smells vile!"

"It does not! It smells of tar and creosote, and it's lapsang souchong." She inhaled the smoky mist and felt herself relax back into the kitchen chair. She needed the taste and had reasoned that the few sips she needed to sate her need probably didn't contain harmful amounts of caffeine. She took a sip, let the warm liquid wash over her teeth and tongue before carefully swallowing.

"Well, don't you ever try and force that on me!" he retorted as he rummaged through the cupboard in an attempt to find something worth mixing with hot water. He settled for a more subtle bag of Earl Grey with a dab of milk.

"Don't worry. I want this treat all to myself. It's too good to share."

He snorted, and as an afterthought, she added:

"And it is probably much healthier than my urge to go down to the docks and lick the Jolly Roger."

Her tongue traced the rim of the cup, and the mist kept condensing on her nose and upper lip, leaving the tiniest layer of droplets there, before slowly drying again. Did he take the hint? She cast a glance over at him, straining her eyes as far up in her eye sockets as they would go. He was still facing away from her as he was making his tea. Sure enough, his movements had stopped, and his spine tensed. She looked down in her cup again, and blew carefully down in it, making the mist hit her eyelashes this time. She was certain he had turned and was staring directly at her, and thus she kept her focus on the ripples she created in the cup.

"Regina?"  
His voice was trembling slightly.

"Mhm?"

She almost blew the sound into her cup, her eyes never leaving it.

"Are you..."

He stopped for a moment. It was evident that he had trouble finding the right words. Or right thoughts, for that matter. She knew she hadn't made it easy for him, with the hints and facts she had spread about the last 24 hours.

"Ehrm...I mean, what you said back in New York..." He scratched the back of his head, wet his lips repeatedly with a highly nervous tongue and scratched his nose.

"Yes?"

"What exactly did you mean? It sounded to me like we would never...you know…"

She kept quiet for a while as she ran her answer through at least ten times before she decided on a historical one.

"Many things happened back in the Enchanted Forest. Among them, three miscarriages and one infertility potion."

"Oh God, Regina!" He let out an audible breath, rubbed his eyes, ruffled his hair and stared at her.

The moment the words had left her lips, she regretted them. However, she was no longer able to keep it all to herself. The knot in her stomach tightened and loosened like a coil, and the pulse drummed in her ears with a _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. _She kept her gaze straight at him, and her thoughts were screaming inside her head.

_Don't just stand there! Hold me! Tight! I'm ripping!_

Mind reading or not, he closed in on her, reached out a hand to touch her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. The dam broke yet again, tears started to roll silently down her cheeks, and he tried to dry them away with his thumbs. He sat down on the chair next to her and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"I'm so, so sorry! I shouldn't have asked." He dragged her over to his lap and pulled her into a tight hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and used his embrace to pull herself together again.

"I'm not the only one full of contradictions, I see," he mumbled, and she lifted her head to look at him. "You know, if it wasn't for..." He stopped and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I mean...you are...I would have sworn you are..." He lost the staring competition.

"Pregnant." she croaked. She wished she didn't sound so broken, but there was nothing to do about that.

"You are?"

His eyes shot back up at her, and his eyebrows were almost hitting his hairline.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." She sat up, threw her head backwards and wiped her eyes as best she could. "And with my track record, I don't know for how much longer either, but for the time being, I'm pregnant."

"And it's mine?"

The words seemed to come automatically, not accusative in any way, more quizzical, just to be sure he had the right to be elated. He _sounded_ elated, and because of that, her anger and indignation of the question somehow diminished. Still, she shot off his lap and started pacing the floor while staring daggers at him.

"You are _so_ close to getting seriously hurt!"

"Sorry"

Due to his quite sincere apology, she felt safe enough to continue. She needed some relief, and maybe sharing it with him would help.

"You know, after my last miscarriage, the royal physician, the midwife and my darling husband" she spat the last syllables, "had come up with a plan to avoid more _embarrassments_ on my part, and decided that it would be best for all parts if they put me on regular contraceptives."

"Embarrassments? They called your miscarriages embarrassments?!" He looked positively shocked.

"Apparently, it's not making the king look good if his queen can't provide an heir. Somehow, it makes him less of a man. I never really understood that, though. It was _I _who couldn't keep them alive, not him. And I don't think he ever announced anything. I never reached the time of confinement, and as the first two were lost before the quickening, he probably wanted to wait and see..."

She paused, sat down and started plucking her cuticles again.

"The contraceptives worked just fine, and I'm glad they did. I...I don't know what I'd done if I kept getting pregnant just to lose them all. It was for the best."

"How old were you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just curious."

"The last one, just after my 21st birthday."

"You were a child!"

"I was not!" she replied indignantly.

"Three miscarriages at the age of 21? Yes, you were!"

"I was a woman well before I got married. We didn't go about molesting children!"

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and with a face that clearly said "yeah, right!"

"And when, may I ask, did you become a woman?"

"When I was 14."

"So, according to you, Henry is an adult next year?"

She glared at him.

"Of course not! That's not even comparable!"

"And why is that?"

"Things were different back then. I was raised to be a queen, and I knew I was going to get married some time after I reached adulthood. My mother feared I would be an old maid when it drew out."

He scoffed.

"And she pawned you off to a king at the age of what?"

"I would turn 18 in February."

"If memory serves me right, the wedding between King Leopold and his child bride was held during summer. You were 17, Regina."

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't! If the bastard wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself! And throw your mother in for good measure! Regular people hardly ever got married before 18, and they surely never made their daughters marry men old enough to be their father."

"Well, I wasn't regular, was I? I am the granddaughter of King Xavier, and that's how it works. I knew that from the moment I was old enough to be prepared for my future duties. It didn't mean I had to _like_ it, but that's what I was trained for. I was prepared."

"You can never be prepared for that, Regina."

"I could take it."

"You shouldn't have needed to. Somebody should have protected you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Did he ever rape you?"

"He was my husband."

"That's not good enough. Did he hurt you?"

"I can no longer recall what's made up in my mind and what was real, but I don't think he ever beat me. In my dreams, sure, but that's not evidence of anything. Not once did I want to be in bed with him, but it was my duty. What the king wants, the king gets."

The air left her. She was _not _a victim to be pitied. She was a woman. A miserable woman, and far to young to be the mother of a pre-teen, but still a woman. How dared he? But she was young, and afraid, and lonely. And now, she felt just like the same scared, young pregnant woman. Only, she was loved, both by her son and by her boyfriend. And even if Spud… God, she couldn't even think it. If he should leave, she had someone to share the burden with. Not someone who were embarrassed by her inabilities.

"Thank you, Robin."

"For what?"

"For taking me for what I am."

She pulled her chair closer to his. His hands sought out her waist, slowly easing them under her sweater, and his fingers ghosted over her bare skin, leaving goose pimples in their wake. She shifted her gaze from his hands and looked him in the eyes. He let the jumper fall again.

"May I?"

She nodded and her breathing became strained and shallow as he slid off the chair and knelt down between her knees. Carefully he rolled the fabric up and fastened it under her bra. Instinctively, she sucked in her gut and held her breath, which left her aorta pulsing hard through her abs. He lowered his hands and held her gently by the waist as he placed a tender kiss somewhere below her bellybutton, yet above the waistband. Then, he put his right ear to her stomach and started muttering something she didn't quite catch, while moving his right hand to the small of her back. To be fair, this little conversation was between Spud and his Daddy anyway, so she just sat back and relaxed. Her hand came up to play with his hair and the feeling of his ear and hair and scruffy cheek against her skin made her grin and she felt like her chest was filled with happy glowing bubbles that would burst into giggles if she didn't contain them. His left hand pushed down the waistband, and kept stroking her stomach in a way she had only imagined in her happiest dreams, and with a flick of a wand, she just welled up.

_Oh no you don't, Mills! One feeling at a time!_

Eyes and nose were suddenly too full of wetness to contain, and she gave away her blubbing by emitting a loud sniff while drying her eyes on her sleeve.

He looked up at her got up on his chair again, pulled down the sweater and leaned in to kiss her. And she reciprocated. God, she did! For the first time in forever, she let all doubts go, and gave into her carnal instincts. Roland was pottering about upstairs, Henry was out of the house, and she didn't care if they happened to run in on them anyway. Nothing inappropriate was happening. Not really. He dragged her over and she straddled his lap. Tongues _were_ active, and when he started groping her ass, she let out a sound halfway between a groan and a moan. Okay, not entirely clean. Probably dirty enough to mortify a teenager and puzzle a five-year-old. She let go of his lips long enough to ask "Are you staying the night?" He gasped slightly to catch his breath. "Do you want us to?" She swatted him on the chest and crashed her lips to his again, and he chuckled deep in his throat at the non-vocalized reply.

"Mom! Not again!"

She let go of Robin's lips with a loud smack, and turned towards the sound and bit her lip, slightly flushed, but with a mischievous smile. Henry just rolled his eyes and looked like he wasn't sure what his next move would be.

"Robin and Roland are staying the night."

"Oh great! Do I have to sleep with earplugs, or are you two going to be decent?"

At this, she turned in Robin's lap and leaned back into his chest, cheek against cheek.

"Based on what we did these last two times you ran in on us, it's clear your definition of decent is not the same as mine. But I don't think we have earplugs."

"You told him, then?"

"Yes."

"Good. Are we telling anybody else?"

"Not yet."

"When?"

"I want to have a check up with an OB first to be sure..." she hesitated a bit "...to be sure everything is OK. If things go down the drain within the next week or four..." the dreaded knot in her stomach tightened again and her voice left her. She rubbed her face a couple of times to compose herself before continuing, "...nobody but the three of us and Emma will know, and that's how it's going to be."

"When will you tell Roland he's going to be a big brother?"

"We'll just wait and see. Winging it, so to speak."

"And his other sibling?"

Her face fell, and Robin pulled her back in an instinctive embrace.

"We haven't had the time to talk about it. It's complicated."

Henry nodded.

"Are you ready for that cup of cocoa now?"

"I don't know if that is sanitary"

"Oh stop it! We didn't slobber in the cups or have sex on the counter."

"Well, you obviously had sex _somewhere_" he muttered and cast glances around the room, as if evidence he didn't want would magically appear.

She gritted her teeth and stood up.

"I'm not discussing this with you. Please have a bit confidence in me. God! We're making dinner, and then it's off to bed for all of us. I would wager we all need a bit of sleep tonight."

* * *

They looked at each other with bated breaths. For the first night in forever, they were going to sleep in the same bed, and somehow it felt like their first awkward night together. More awkward than their actual first night, which really hadn't been awkward at all. She was standing by the bed in knickers and an oversized t-shirt that stopped mid-thigh; he was on the opposite side, in pyjama pants, with the grey waistband of his boxers just sticking up.

"How do we do this?" he asked as she went to turn off the lights.

"How do you want it?"

"What do I really want?"

"Yeah, what do you really, really want?" She groaned internally. Spice Girls? Really?

"I want to hold you tight and never let you go. You?"

"That'll work. I want skin contact. Cuddling, no fuddling. Boxer and knickers on, everything else off."

He nodded.

"Let's get to bed."

She discarded the t-shirt, he stepped out of his pyjamas, and they met in the middle of the bed, skin on skin.


	10. Midwife

She woke up in a furnace. The duvet was completely covering her head, her back was sticking to his chest, and his right arm was resting heavily on her side. In a desperate move to get some air, she stuck her right leg out in the open and in one swift motion, she had hooked the duvet with her foot and pinned it between her knees, leaving three of legs open to the elements. The movement and sudden gush of cold air woke him up, and his arm pulled her closer.

"Let go! I'm boiling!"

"Just a bit longer," he mumbled into the crook of her neck. His breath felt like a scorch through her hair, and her claustrophobic tendencies bubbled to the surface and she raised her voice to a squeal.

"I'm serious!"

She wriggled out of his grip, pushed him aside with both arms and legs, and threw the duvet completely over him. Finally free of his grip, her breathing relaxed and her body and temper cooled down. Even her chest perspired, and as she sat up, one bead of sweat rolled down her cleavage. She shuddered, not sure if it was because she was disgustingly wet, or because of the drop of temperature.

"I'm taking a shower before I go down and make breakfast."

He sat up and looked at her close-to-naked body, and she suddenly felt _very_ naked.  
"Mind if I join you?"

"No funny business!"

"I promise"

* * *

Regina had scheduled a visit to the doctor's for Zelena, but Robin was reluctant to join, so she had taken on the job alone. Standing outside her sister's cell, she could hear the tell-tale noise of somebody not completely agreeing with their stomach. She smirked. If Zelena insisted on getting revenge on her by getting pregnant by _her _soulmate, at least it was a small comfort to know she wasn't completely free of misery. She opened the door and stepped inside to see Greenie being properly green and hugging the bin. She was sitting in her usual corner of the bed, and was glancing up to see who had entered her cell.

"Having a ball with your little bundle of joy?"

Zelena answered by a dry heaving a couple of times before she slumped backwards against the wall and breathed heavily. She was looking delightfully crappy, and Regina could feel that smug, self-satisfied grin spread across her face.

"Oh shut it. At least I _can_ produce a child on my own, without having to rely on two others to do it for me." she spit out and glared at Regina. "This is worth every second of nausea and cramping and peeing. Even your precious son couldn't keep me from rubbing this in your face." She rubbed her stomach and put the bin on the floor. "Would you get somebody to remove this and bring me some water? I need to rehydrate."

Regina winced at the smell, but managed to keep a relatively neutral face.

"It's time for your first prenatal visit. Wouldn't want that little spawn to suffer malnutrition or anything else, now, would we?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet and mock concerned.

"We're going up to see Dr. Whale to confirm that you are in fact still pregnant and not only suffering from a virus induced stomach bug, and then we'll take it from there. A nice outing between sisters, so to speak." She smiled one of her most tight, menacing smiles.

Zelena got up and threw a glance at the filthy bucket on the floor, clearly not happy about going out in her state and Regina conjured a glass of water and a packet of tic-tac and gave her.

"Rinse and eat. You reek."

"Oh Lord, not mint!" She suddenly looked sick again.

"Then what will please your picky diet?"

"Salty liquorice...Please." she looked down and massaged her sides with determined strokes.

Regina winced slightly, but exchanged the mints for a packet of liquorice pastilles.

"You're taking a shower before the exam. I don't know how thorough it will be, but I've heard that in case one ends up in hospital it's always wise to have clean undies."

She frog marched her to the showers and waited outside.

* * *

"Zelena Mills!"

The calling was shrill in the practically empty waiting area, and both sisters jumped in their seats before standing up and walking towards the door.

A smiling, chubby elderly woman welcomed them, and Regina got the immediate urge to back out faster than hell.

"Hello, you two. I'm Imelda Hamilton, your OB-nurse-slash-midwife. What can I do for you today?"

Zelena looked like a deer caught in the headlight, but was not nearly as out of it as Regina, and managed to state her business.

"I'm here for a prenatal, and my lovely sister is here to witness the joyous occasion."

"I thought Whale did the prenatals," Regina muttered.

"Oh no, that's my job. Whale is only there for the birthing part." Nurse Hamilton gave Regina a smile that sent shivers down her spine, and went to show them both a seat.

And here Regina was, stuck in an examination room, surrounded by cross-sections of female parts, both in print and 3D, forced to listen to the midwife from hell cross-examine her pregnant sister. Her bloody pregnant sister! God, she hated her existence, and quite a substantial part of her regretted that she hadn't obliterated her yet.

Regina answered all questions in quick succession in her head as they were being asked to Zelena.

"So, miss Mills. You are pregnant?"

_Of course I am!_

"Yes."

"Have you taken a home pregnancy test?"

_Yes, __nine._

"Two, in fact. One back in New York, and one in your charming cellar," Zelena drawled and sent Regina one of those infuriatingly smug stares she was a master of, "because my dear sister couldn't believe she was going to be an auntie. But she was absolutely thrilled when she saw I was right!"

God, she should wring her scrawny neck!

"Okay, then let's get on with the procedures"

So, Zelena was weighed in, and nurse Hamilton scribbled some more notes on her form.

"I'm going to ask some more questions, and when we are through, I'm going to take a few blood samples, you will give me a urine sample, and we'll finish off with the physical exam. Okay?"

Zelena nodded.

"Okay then. Do you know all your options?"

_Get it out of her!_

"Do I have options?"

"In short, you have three options; termination, go through with the pregnancy and give it up for adoption, or keep it and be a parent."

Zelena went white as a sheet, and a forceful "NO!" slipped through her lips.

"No, you don't know your options? No something else?"

"No! I'm not letting you take my baby!"

So much for _that_ hope.

"I'm not taking anything you don't want to, dear." She patted Zelena on the knee, and Regina felt an equal amount of disgust by the gesture and a totally irrational need to protect her sister – deranged or not. Nurse Hamilton kept speaking.

"If, however, you would want an abortion, this is probably a good time. It's hardly more than a lump of cells, and you will be back in shape in no time."

_No it's not, you filthy old hag. It's a baby, and you bloody well know it. It's not like removing your lumps or gall bladder. It's removing a part of your heart! At least it was for me. _

Zelena looked positively appalled. "You're _not taking my baby, I said! And I'm not killing it either!"_

Nurse Hamilton shrugged and rolled her eyes. Regina would very much like to slap her. The bedside manners had not improved at all, and she was really starting to wonder how on earth this creature had kept her position through two curses. She belonged in the gutter, and certainly not within a hundred feet from a pregnant woman! Even Zelena had done a better job faking a caring midwife.

"Lets get on with the questions, as you are clearly keeping that little bean of yours."

Zelena relaxed a bit again and let one of her hands fall from her midriff. Regina just wanted to scream.

"How old are you?"

"Uh…I'm not sure. 38?"

"Okay, let's assume you're correct. You are what we like to call an older mother. Have you been pregnant before?"

"No, this is my first. And I am hardly old!"

"You are in your thirties, dear, and that is considered older in terms of pregnancy, whether you feel it or not."

Zelena huffed and Nurse Hamilton droned on. Regina's own answers to the questions kept popping up in her head ad nauseam.

_35._

_Yes, three times._

_All standard symptoms, but all fairly mild. _

_No alcohol or smoking…_

_I want this to be over with. Get as far away from both of you as I can and never lay eyes on you again. _*Poof*_ May I?_

"Is there any history in your family of pregnancy related problems? Miscarriages?"

"Not as far as I'm aware of."

Regina could feel the reddening of her ears, and she was fastening her eyes on a cross section of a pregnant torso.

"What about you, Mayor Mills? Do you have any information for miss Mills on the subject?"

"No."

"My mother had two healthy children, and that's about all I know." Zelena stated, coming to Regina's rescue. She had started picking on a thread on her sleeve, and was probably more nervous than she let show.

"Miscarriages are often hereditary, for some reason or other…,"

The retched hag looked intently at Regina and was clearly trying to get her to spill something, but all she got in return was a menacing stare.

"No they are not! Miscarriages are so common you will find them in any family if you look."

"But your Majesty, it's best to know..."

"I'm not your Majesty any more, but if you don't get on with the rest of the procedures, you'll see that Madam Mayor will be just as unwise to cross!"

Nurse Hamilton gave an indignant huff and turned to Zelena.

"Lift your shirt, I'm just going to feel your stomach."

Regina couldn't keep her eyes off the protruding stomach. Of course she knew that what she saw was the result of the constipation and bloating Zelena had mentioned among her symptoms, rather than an actual baby bump, but still, she felt that ugly sting of belly envy. Zelena didn't miss the glances.

"Enjoying the view?"

Before Regina could come up with an answer, Zelena gave an audible hiss, sat straight up and flung her legs to the floor.

"Ow! You did that on purpose! Get your hands off me you dirty old hag! God, that hurt!"

Apparently, nurse Hamilton had found some trapped air, and the effect was rather unexpected. Zelena stood up and took a few steps while softly stroking her stomach before she stood cross legged and looked desperately for a way out. She was getting increasingly paler, and started to look like she couldn't decide whether to hurl or pee. Noticing this, nurse Hamilton (_You should be called Ratchet! _Regina thought to herself) and picked up a lidded glass and a long hospital shirt.

"Let's get a urine sample from that little bladder of yours, and put the shirt on. Keep your knickers off, because we're doing the pelvic exam when you return."

Zelena snatched the objects from her and popped off to the toilet, swiftly as the Ghost Who Walks, and Regina suddenly realized she was alone with a person she wanted to avoid even _more_ than her sister.

"And how are you these days, your Majesty?"

"Cut it with the "Majesty". Don't make a fool of yourself."

"Eating well and healthy? You always were a picky eater."

"That's none of your business."

"Have you had your regular check-up?"

"I fail to see why this is any of your concern. I'm here to keep an eye on my deranged sister, not to get a medical exam."

"Do as you please. I only want the best for you, as always."

Regina felt an involuntary shiver run up her spine. She should never have come. That woman saw straight through her, and would surely never keep her mouth shut.

She turned towards the door when the clicking of the handle announced Zelena's return, just to keep the focus away from the midwife. She kept talking, none the less.

"I'm sure I'll see you within the next week or two. We can continue this conversation then."

Regina shot her a piercing look, but all she really wanted to do was to scream and evaporate her on the spot.

"Feet in the stirrups, love, and then we begin with a pap smear to check for cervical cancer."

Zelena's did as she was told, but her eyes grew in anguish when she saw the speculum, and she turned her head to the wall to avoid eye contact with both Regina and the midwife. Regina heard a sharp intake of breath as the obviously cold speculum entered, and Zelena's whole body went rigid. Her knuckles were going white as she grabbed for dear life onto the bed.

The smear was over in no time, and Zelena relaxed again when the speculum was removed.

"We're going to perform a transvaginal ultrasound to determine how far along you are."

"Transvaginal what?"

"I'm putting this probe up your vagina, and with the help of high frequent sound waves, we'll be able to get an image of your uterus and foetus."

Zelena nodded weakly, but the moment the probe was well inside and Nurse Hamilton started to move it around a bit, she was swallowing hard and repeatedly.

"She's going to vomit!" Regina yelped and looked desperately for something to catch it in. Nothing was in immediate reach, so she conjured a basin and tucked under Zelena's chin just in time. She couldn't, however, keep her acidic comment to herself and spat;

"You are a delicate flower, aren't you. Disgusted by a probe!"

"This," nurse Hamilton pointed to the black and white screen, "is your uterus. You can see the dark area in here, that's the gestation sac filled with amniotic fluid."

Regina's stomach plummeted. She knew. Of course she knew. Had known from that horrible moment in New York. But seeing it on screen was different. Vastly so.

The image shifted, and Nurse Hamilton continued.

"This ring over here is the yolk sac, and this little bean shaped grey area is your baby, Miss Mills."

Zelena turned her head back from the wall and squinted at the screen.

"_That's_ my baby?"

"Yes, and it seems we have a heartbeat. Congratulations! This looks like a healthy pregnancy so far, and just about 6 weeks according to the measurements. This coincides nicely with your last period."

This time, it was Regina who was feeling faint and queasy. Zelena just kept staring at the monitor with a slack jaw. Regina took out her phone and captured a photo of the screen. Robin might want to see it, she reckoned.

* * *

They went back towards the cellar in a blissful silence, but Zelena just _had_ to speak.

"What's the deal with you and the midwife?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah right! You looked as if you were ready to rip out eachother's throats."

"She's grating my patience"

"Have it your way. I'm not too fond of her either."

Regina really didn't feel like talking about it any more, in case she spilled something. Zelena didn't feel like keeping quiet just yet, though.

"Did you know they could take a picture of unborn babies?"

"Yes. But I didn't know about the transvaginal version."

Zelena paled at the mentioning.

"That was uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, but I can't dig up sympathy for that one. It's not as if she raped you."

"It certainly felt like it," she mumbled

"No, it did not! If you think _that _felt like rape, you have no idea, and thus you should shut up!"

Funnily enough, she did shut up, and went back in her cell without protests of any kind.

* * *

Regina's plan was to return to work after having put Zelena away, but after the little visit to the OB, that plan had went down the drain. She was totally knackered, to the point she didn't know if a stroke of a feather would have her crumbling in tears or drift off to a peaceful sleep. Going home seemed like the right choice, and she couldn't muster the strength to even feel half bad about it. In a daze she disrobed and headed straight for the bedroom, where she stripped out of her clothes and unceremoniously dropped them in a heap by the bed before she buried herself in the cotton fluff.

_The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. A mild breeze rustled through the leaves, and the delightful shrieks from Roland as Henry kept chasing him around the lawn in their backyard sent sweet, sweet sparks through her. A soft pawing and tugging at her left breast shifted her focus back to her daughter. As she happily suckled, Regina couldn't quite understand how she had produced something _this_ perfect. She kept stroking that shiny silk black hair, caressed her ears and marvelled in the soft fluff behind them. Perfect, slightly almond shaped, eyes peered up at her before they blinked and closed. The content purring from the infant and pinpricks by ten perfect little claws made her feel like the luckiest woman on earth. "You are by far the most perfect girl I ever could have asked for, Titicaca." she murmured and smelled the top of her head. The slight tickle of whiskers when Titicaca yawned and let go of her nipple made her giggle. The kitten snuggled closer, and Regina covered her breast again. She traced the bridge of her daughter's nose, and lifted her lips to marvel at the formidable fangs that had come out the last days. Everything was utter bliss. That was, until Snow showed up and broke the magic. "You can't be serious, Regina! That's a _cat_!"_

"_She's my daughter!"_

"_It's unnatural and disturbing!"_

_The entire town had gathered in her back yard, and they all supported their princess. Titicaca had woken up, and began to squirm. Regina held her in a firm grip and tried to calm her down, but as someone threw a basketball on them, the previously sleeping ball of fur was an exploding ball of a thousand claws. Regina was helpless and six red stripes on her chest started to ooze as Titicaca had kicked herself off her lap and headed for the road. "NOOO!" Regina screamed and ran after her, through the jeering crowd, and around the hedge. But she was too late. She knew the moment she heard thee screeching of brakes and skidding of tires on asphalt. Even before the thud and the sickening crushing sound of a fragile ribcage being demolished could be heard, she knew. And she screamed! The sound she made came from deep, deep within her soul, and it felt as earthshattering as the sight of that perfect little black being in a puddle of blood and guts. She didn't think, just knelt down and scooped the remains in her lap. The crowd had gathered around and kept cheering. And Regina cried. Petting the lifeless body, clutching it to her chest, rocking back and forth. And howling. _

She woke to that strangled, pained howl, and she was drenched in sweat and tears.

_God, I can't stop shaking! __It's just a dream! _

The clock showed 5:47, and it was time to get ready anyway. Everybody were supposed to meet up at Granny's at 7:30. She could hear Henry was running down the stairs, so he was probably starting to get ready too. Robin had planned to get ready somewhere else, as he had spent his day with Roland and the Merry men in the forest.

Dreams, sisters and ugly midwives would have to wait until another day to be handled. The sleep had worked like magic, and she was able to shake it off in just a few minutes, only leaving a nagging black spot in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

The party at Granny's was to her taste. She felt rather festive, actually, and sitting in a booth with Henry looking through the storybook made her heart soar.

"Hello Love!"

She tilted her head up towards the sound and received a soft hello-kiss on the lips. He slid into the booth and sat down opposite her.

"So, not to puncture the party, but did you check on Zelena?"

"Still locked up, still pregnant"

He looked down, and his smile left him. She, on the other hand, couldn't keep the smile away and continued;

"But that's something we'll be able to deal with."

He smiled a bit lopsided and took her hand.

"Together."

He kept stroking her hand with his thumb, and she imitated the motion by stroking Henry on the back in a similar fashion.

"So. Will is looking after Roland..." His flirting lilt was back. "Perhaps I could take you for a walk in the moonlight?" He tilted his head and smiled. She let out a little giggle.

"Perhaps."

Henry just smiled and ushered them off with his telling gaze, and they walked hand in hand out of the diner and into the silent street.

"How was the doctor's appointment?"

"It was a bit of a roller-coaster, to be honest. The doctor was not present, but the midwife was. To my great displeasure, she is the old midwife in King Leopold's employ, and I think she probably smelled my pregnancy a mile away." She shuddered.

"The worst part was definitely when she tried to make me talk about my miscarriages to inform Zelena of pregnancy difficulties in the family. At least I know Zelena had no previous knowledge about them, and probably still doesn't know. Or that I'm pregnant."

"Is she the only midwife in town?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know she got that position during the curse. I had dictated some of the fates of my subjects, but the rest was taken care of automatically, so to speak. And frankly, I never even thought of midwifery as an option in a town frozen in time. Nobody was getting pregnant anyway.

"I would need another doctor too. I can't bear the thought of Whale between my legs. I don't even know how Mary Margaret could survive to go to bed with him."

"She did what?"

"Oh, yes, she had a one night stand with Doctor Frankenstein."

"God."

"Yes, that's a way of expressing it."

He pulled her in for a kiss, and she smiled and kissed him back. Then she remembered the sonogram, and found her phone and sent him the picture.

"I've got a picture of Zelena's peanut."

"What?"

He looked rather taken aback.

"I told you about the ultrasound. You can see the baby inside. Look – that peanut-shape is the baby. It's 6 weeks, and has a heartbeat..."

She really didn't want this. Not at all. And Robin was mesmerized and mindboggled by the ways of this world's ever surprising technology.

When they closed in on Main Street again, they could hear a commotion, and they both ran towards the noise.

* * *

Everything had happened so fast. They were all on Main street, and suddenly Regina had been caught by the darkness that was no longer tethered to Rumplestiltskin. What had made the darkness choose her? They didn't know, but Emma, in an act of either heroism or stupidity – Regina still suspected a combination of the two – had taken the dagger and tethered the darkness to herself.

_Stupid stupid stupid!_

And then there was nothing but a dagger with the name Emma Swan. Emma was gone, and the whole Charming clan had blamed her. Of course. And why wouldn't they. She wasn't sure she didn't blame herself. At least Henry still stood by her. Unlike that stupid pirate! When it was obvious Emma wasn't in this world, they had all gone to the apprentice to get advice. Of course he only had Merlin's wand, and to open a portal they needed a wielder with _both_ light and dark magic. And she had failed. Again.

The defeat felt like acid burning her insides, tears threatening to spill at any second. She stood in front of her full-length mirror and brushed her hair as she got ready for bed. She could see Robin putting his clothes on a chair by his side of the bed, before he came walking up behind her. He kissed the top of her head and started carefully massaging her shoulders.

"You know, he didn't mean it like you think. Not all the things he said"

"Oh yes he did."

"He just witnessed his girl becoming the Dark One. What would you expect?"

"I don't know. But he's right about my magic, though." She sighed. "I can't seem to get access to all the shades of powers I know I possess. I don't know if I've lost parts, or if it's just harder to reach. No matter what, I can't wield the wand and make a functioning portal."

"Do you think Zelena can?"

"I'm not sure. After all, it requires dark _and_ light magic, and all we know of Zelena and white magic is that it defeated her. However, that doesn't mean she can't possess it."

"Love, don't beat yourself up about it."

She sighed and leaned back into his lap.

"It's not all that easy, you know."

"I know. But you're not alone in this. We'll go through it together, and draw strength from each other. The Charmings _will_ calm down eventually. This is not your fault, and I know you can do it."

They slipped down under the duvet and lay nestled together. Her heart was getting back to normal speed, and she was calming down. She kissed his chest and let out another sigh of content. He was good – very good. She loved him. Really loved him. And best of all – she believed him!

* * *

A/N, updated November 17th 2016:

So, that's the end of "Meatloaf". At last. I'm so happy for every page view, follow, favourite and review. I'm sorry this dragged out, but some things were harder than anticipated, and others were…well…you know.

I realise I might have uploaded chapter 9 in a sensitive week. I got hardly any response to it, and it made me think a bit. I also had a week long discussion with a reader who hadn't read my story (and hopefully never will) just after I posted it. This discussion made me think and rethink my motives, my execution of the story and the future of what I'm going to write. I know I tried to deal with some touchy subjects, though I have yet to come across a reader who has been offended by what I have written and told me so. However, I know I can't please everybody, and apparently, it's in my nature to infuriate quite a few, so I guess there are people out there who hate my writing too.

I'm having ideas to continue the plot in a new story, but I'm not sure if I'm going to do it or not. If inspiration strikes, and I can get it out on paper, then sure. I'm not going to do anything before I know exactly where the show is going, though. I need to know when I'm going to completely separate my fiction from canon, and that is not certain yet. Although, a certain death (*I'm still not accepting it!*) is _never _going to enter my little bubble of fanfiction. I know I'm cruel and take a certain pleasure in writing what I do, but honestly – I'm a sucker for Regina, and in my opinion, nobody is better at punishing her than herself. She has quite enough going on in her head to drag her down.

Thanks again for everybody who has been reading this. I'm so glad you did, and I'm especially happy if you liked it.


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